White
by 94monkeystogo
Summary: Jack Frost and Elsa Winters have been best friends since childhood. But when a freak accident leaves Jack and several others hospitalized, the town blames Elsa and forces her to leave the life she knew. Three years later, Jack and Elsa meet again, both having changed dramatically from their old selves. Can Elsa salvage her reputation? Will their friendship be able to grow again?
1. The Fall

Chapter One: The Fall

"You kids be careful now, alright? I don't want to get a phone call about one of you in the hospital just because you thought you were invincible. I'm looking at you, Jack."

I laugh as the white-haired boy next to me lets out an outraged noise at being singled out. As wild as our group of friends is, Jack is by far the worst. "Why are you just telling me this? I'm not the one who broke my leg three weeks ago," he says, shooting a look at one of our other friends, Hiccup, who is now sporting crutches and a hard cast that's been completely decorated with markers and paints, courtesy of my cousin, Rapunzel.

Mrs. Overland puts her hands on her hips and takes on a stern look. "Now you listen here…" I can hear the groans from behind me, where the rest of our gang is standing. There are eight of us altogether: me, Jack, my sister Anna, his sister Sophie, Rapunzel, Hiccup, Merida, and Flynn. It takes everything in me not to groan as well, but that would only make it worse. From years of experience in dealing with Jack's mom, I know by her stance that she's preparing to bombard us with a lecture about being safe and responsible, something that she claims we are incapable of understanding, let alone actually doing. To avoid our talking-to, I jab Jack in the ribs right when he starts to talk back again. Thankfully, it shuts him up and I give Mrs. Overland my sweetest smile. "Don't worry Mrs. O, we'll be as safe as safe can be."

She just eyes me warily. I don't think she's forgiven me yet for last year's incident, when Sophie got into that sledding accident. She hit a tree and had a pretty bad concussion. It wasn't technically my fault, but going sledding had been my idea, so I took the blame for it. Maybe she's giving us such a hard time today because it was my idea to go ice-skating, and she thinks that something bad will happen again.

After an awkward silence of almost half a minute, she sighs. "Go on then, but make sure you keep a careful eye on ALL of the kids, and don't forget that if anything goes wrong, I'll be looking at you, Elsa."

"You got it, Mrs. O. Don't worry, we'll all be fine." I give her a thumbs up before turning around and running after Jack, who immediately took off with the rest of our friends after the words "Go on" left his mother's lips. I'm going to ignore the fact that she still doesn't trust me. _Once we all come back in one piece, she'll realize that I'm both safe and responsible, and that she doesn't have to worry about her kids spending time with me._ Not that she could stop us from hanging out. Jack and Sophie have been best friends with me and my sister since I can remember.

"Jack! Wait up!" I yell at his back. He slows down enough for me to come right up next to him, but doesn't stop entirely.

"Nice job back there," he says, giving me a lopsided grin. "I didn't think we'd ever get away."

"I know," I retort. "We could've gotten out here a lot sooner if you hadn't risen to the bait and talked back though."

He laughs. "True, but I just can't help it. My honor will not tolerate being tainted with false accusations of recklessness."

"False?" I ask incredulously.

"Whatever." He just smiles.

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, I feel like I have to bring up a more serious conversation. "But seriously, Jack," I say, "we have to be careful today. Your mom is still mad at me about Sophie's accident and I don't want to give her another reason to hate me."

He gives me a curious look but nods his head. "Yeah I noticed she's seemed a little snippy with you. She doesn't hate you Elsa, she's just worried about us. We'll be careful, I promise."

"Good." He smiles again, and I can't help but grin back. It takes me a moment to realize that we've stopped walking. The trek to the pond where we're going skating is only about five minutes away, so most of our group is probably already on the ice at this point. "Let's pick up the pace if we wanna skate before it gets dark," I say as I grab his hand and drag him forward. He resists, though, and stays standing in one spot. "What's up?" I ask.

He doesn't respond, but just looks at the ground. He's embarrassed about something. "Jack, what's wrong?"

He looks up at me, and his blue eyes are more solemn than I've ever seen them before. "When I was walking back from school…" he starts, but I don't let him finish.

"Were they bothering you again?"

He just nods, and I sigh heavily. A few months ago, two or three older guys from our high school started picking on Jack, pushing him around and insulting him, especially about his hair, which is naturally white. He tries to pretend that it doesn't bother him, but I'm not fooled. "You can't let what they say get to you, Jack. They're just trying to make you feel bad about yourself because they know you're better than them." Knowing that they're bullying him makes me angrier than I've ever been before.

"I know, but…" he pauses, as if collecting his thoughts. "I do know you're right. And it usually doesn't bother me that much, but the last time they came around they started saying things about you too."

I'm confused. "What about me?"

His face starts getting red, and I know that I'm starting to blush. "I'd rather not repeat them," he says, and I just nod. People have been calling us a couple for years, and for years we both just laughed and denied it, but for the past six months it's been different. For me, at least, it has been. I don't think Jack thinks about me that way.

"Okay." I can't think of anything else to say. _How did our conversation get so awkward so quickly?_ After another minute or two of silence, during which I realize that I'm still holding his hand – but can't bring myself to let it go now – Jack is just about to say something when a shriek erupts from the direction of the pond.

"What the – " he starts, but I sprint towards the ice. We weren't too far away from the pond when we stopped, so it takes me less than a minute of flat-out running to reach the edge. "What's going on?" I yell at Hiccup, who is sitting on a stump a few feet from the shore.

"I don't know," he responds, "but I think someone fell through." He looks panicked, and I wonder why he's not helping until I remember that the combination of ice and crutches probably isn't a very good idea. Jack, who stopped long enough to hear Hiccup's response to my question, takes off across the pond to where several people are clustered. I start to follow, but turn around. "I'm gonna go out there. Do you have your phone on you?" He nods. "Call the police, or Mrs. O, or someone, and get help!" I command before running to join the others.

The first person I come across is Rapunzel, who is talking quietly and comfortingly to a very wet, obviously very cold Sophie. _Great, it had to be her_, I think. I kneel down next to the pair and am about to start questioning them when I hear Jack shout my name.

"Elsa! It's Anna!"

With those three words, my heart jumps to my throat and I spin around and hurry over to where he and Flynn are standing. "Where is she? Where is she?" Neither of them answer me, but Flynn grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me toward the woods. "Go help Merida. Find me a long tree branch." I hesitate, but the frantic look on his face gets me moving, along with a final shove. "GO!" he screams.

By the time I make it to the woods, Merida's returning, dragging a branch behind her. "Hopefully this'll be long enough. I didn't want to waste too much time looking. Help me," she demands, and I pick up the other end of the branch and move back towards the two figures standing on the ice. When we get back, I notice that Jack's taken off his heavy coat and thrown his skates and shoes on the ground close by. He only glances at the branch we've brought back before declaring that it's not long enough.

Tears start to make salty tracks down my face. "What can I do to help?" He ignores me and, to my surprise, dives into the icy water. "Jack!" I scream, but he's already gone. I can see Anna now, struggling to keep her little twelve-year old head above the water. The branch we brought definitely wouldn't have reached her.

Jack's head breaks the surface a few feet from where my sister is paddling. I can hear his voice, but I can't make out what he's saying to her. As I watch, she wraps her arms around his neck and he starts to make his way back over to where Merida, Flynn, and I are standing. I hold back my sobs as they approach. I don't want to make the situation worse by scaring Anna. By the time they get back to us, I can see Jack's lips turning blue. At least Anna had her winter gear on when she fell in, but he doesn't even have shoes on, for gosh sakes!

I grab Anna's arms and heave her back onto the solid ice as Merida and Flynn do the same for Jack. "Are you okay? Are you both okay?" Anna just nods at me, her braids plastered to her shoulders and her eyes with their frightened look. Jack doesn't respond at all. Merida looks at me in alarm. "Jack?"

The blare of the sirens is the last thing that I remember about that day.


	2. Reputations

**Special thanks to WickedgreenPhantom, xxxevil cookiexxx, Allonsyintheimpalawithsherlock, GuardianDragon98, Keeping-it-Tuff, and Everything Charlie for following, favoriting, and/or reviewing my story. This is my first published attempt at fanfic and I'm extremely grateful for the support :) You are all gentleman and scholars.**

When I wake up, the first thing that I register is a faint beeping noise. Its steady and strangely calming rhythm makes me want to fall back asleep, but the brightness of the room hurts my eyes. I look up and realize that I'm in a hospital room. Anna is lying in the bed in front of me, her petite little body tucked in to a mound of brightly colored blankets.

Tears fill my eyes again. "Oh Anna…" I whisper. _This is my fault. This is all my fault_. _I should have been there to watch her, instead of talking to Jack…JACK!_ The thought of my best friend makes me bolt upright in my chair, knocking over a bouquet of flowers that someone must have left while I was asleep. Luckily, the vase wasn't glass, so it didn't shatter, but it takes me almost ten minutes to clean up all the dirt that spread across the floor. While I clean, I notice that the room is almost entirely white. The floor, the ceiling, the wall, even the machine that's monitoring Anna's pulse is a sterile white. _How very clean_, I think to myself. I'm just setting the flowers back on the stand next to my chair when the door swings open and a young woman in uniform walks slowly into the room.

She notices me almost immediately and gives me a small smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh good, you're awake," she says quietly. "Your parents wanted me to tell you that they're expecting you at home. They didn't think it was right to move you from Anna's bedside last night."

I try to return her smile. "Thank you for letting me know."

She doesn't respond, just nods toward my sister and gestures for me to leave. I'm halfway to the door when I turn around again. "Excuse me? Is she going to be okay?"

The nurse frowns at me. "Preliminary tests are pointing towards no permanent injuries, but the doctor is somewhat concerned about her hearing in her right ear. We have to wait until Anna wakes up to be sure though."

She's obviously done talking, and she turns back around to check Anna's pulse. _Anna's going to be deaf?_ I think incredulously as I quietly leave the room.

I know I should probably head home immediately, but I don't think Jack would ever forgive me if I didn't go visit him, and I would never forgive myself if I didn't either. Rather than go to the front desk to ask for his room number, I head down the hallway and take a left. I know this hospital like the back of my hand. You don't have friends like Jack and Hiccup and not know your way around the hospital. We were here last month when Hiccup broke his leg climbing trees with Flynn and Merida. And Jack's been here so many times that they've taken to putting him in the same room every time he comes in.

When I reach his room number, I put my hand on the door to walk in when I'm spun around roughly. Mrs. Overland is face to face with me, and she looks like she could murder me on the spot. "What do you think you're doing?" she demands.

"I'm going to see my best friend," I say respectfully.

"Oh no, you're not."

"Why not? I just want to make sure he's okay," I say defensively.

"You want to make sure he's okay," she repeats sarcastically. "He wouldn't be in there in the first place if it weren't for you. And Sophie wouldn't be in there either. I told you to watch them. I told you to take care of them. And what happened? Your sister and both my children end up in the hospital, with frostbite and hypothermia and God knows what else!"

I quail under her angry speech. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"You stay away from my son. And my daughter. You better believe I'm telling your parents about this. Of all the irresponsible, thoughtless, reckless people in this world, you are the worst."

Ouch. That hurts. I can feel my eyes starting to fill with tears, but she ignores that and grips my upper arm firmly. "You will be leaving. Now."

The next thing I know, I'm standing outside the hospital's main doors, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun on the snow. My house isn't too far from here, so I just walk home, dragging out the time to avoid seeing my parents. When I finally reach the house, the front door opens right before I reach it. _Mom's probably been waiting for you for hours_.

"Elsa! I'm so glad you're home," she says. I was expecting a reprimand about being late, so this surprises me. She takes my hand. "I heard about what happened from your friends, but I'd like to hear your side of the story as well."

"But…why?" I'm a little confused as to what she means by "my side of the story".

My mother looks at me and smiles sadly. "It seems that Mrs. Overland is taking legal action against you. She wants to place a restraining order on you to keep you away from Jack."

"WHAT?"

She winces. "Not so loud, Elsa. Your father just got back from work and is trying to sleep."

"Sorry." I lower my voice to an acceptable tone. "A restraining order?"

"That's what I've been told. However, she may have just said that because of the state she was in, but I'd like to hear what you have to say about it, just in case she is a woman of her word."

I nod and being to relate what happened. I'm amazed that I remember so much of the accident, it seemed like a blur when it was happening. My mom doesn't say anything until I'm finished. Then she squeezes my hand and gives me a small hug. "Well, don't worry about a thing. Anna's going to be fine, and Jack and Sophie will be too."

"But what about Anna's…ear?" I ask cautiously. My mom shrugs. "The doctors don't know for sure yet, so we'll be optimistic until we hear otherwise. Okay?"

"Okay."

The next few weeks are a blur for me. Despite the fact that Hiccup, Merida, Flynn and I were all eyewitnesses to what happened, it seems like no one is believing our version of what happened. Mrs. Overland's story about my dangerous, reckless behavior is spreading through the town like wildfire; I don't think there's a single person in this city that doesn't think I'm a danger to humanity.

I don't know what to do. When I go to the grocery store, even the clerks give me suspicious looks, like they think I'm going to blow up the place any second. People at school avoid me and my teachers ignore me during class. Even walking down the street is a trial for me, since people I've never met before avoid me like the plague. Even the mayor, Mr. Weasleton, is taking Mrs. O's side. The night that Anna came back from the hospital, looking tired but just as bouncy as usual, he came to visit us and spoke privately with my parents. Since I'm not allowed in the room while they talk, I only catch the very end of the conversation, or at least enough to know that I'm the topic of discussion and that Mr. Weasleton wants me to leave town.

As surprising as it is to hear those words, I'm a little relieved. I don't know how much longer I can live like this, with everyone acting like I'm a fifteen-year old criminal. _But what about Jack? You'll never get to see him again. And Anna. And Sophie, Rapunzel, Merida, Flynn, Hiccup. All your friends will be gone._

When the mayor leaves, my parents call me in to talk. I can tell that my dad is uncomfortable. He keeps fiddling with his glasses and won't look me in the eye for more than a few seconds. My mom is much calmer, but her face looks worried. "Elsa, the mayor thinks that…" she starts to explain, but I stop her.

"I know, mom."

"You know?" She sounds surprised.

"I was listening at the door," I admit, and I see a ghost of a smile on her face before it's wiped away and replaced by a look of concern.

"How much did you hear?" my father asks.

"Only the very end, the part about me leaving."

He looks away from me again. "You understand, I personally don't think that this is the solution to the problem, but…" he drifts off, unable to finish the sentence.

I look at the floor. "People are treating me differently. I can hear what they're whispering behind my back, calling me a monster. My friends aren't allowed to talk to me, Jack and Sophie haven't come back to school yet. I hate this."

My mother wraps me in her arms. "I know, sweetie. It's hard." My dad clears his throat. "The mayor's plan consisted of several steps. First, you leave Burgess." I nod, that's the part I heard through the door. "Second," he continues, "You change your name, since word of this accident has most likely spread, we don't want your reputation to be tainted everywhere you go." _Change my name? That sounds a bit drastic to me_, I think, but I remain silent. "Third, you change your appearance."

"Change my what?"

"Your appearance," he repeats. "Your hair color, eye color, hairstyle, something that makes you different from what you look like now. Your picture was in the Burgess Bulletin, you know, that sorry excuse of a newspaper."

I didn't know that; no wonder everyone suddenly knows who I am and what I look like. "So…I have to basically become someone else, just because Mrs. Overland overreacted and is spreading lies about me?"

My parents exchange a look. "Basically…yes," my dad finishes lamely.

"But it's not fair!" I explode. "Why am I the one taking the fall for this? It was an accident!"

"We know it was, Elsa, you don't have to convince us. We just think that it's in your best interest to follow the mayor's instructions. What college would accept you if they heard about your reputation, even if it's not true? What employer would hire you? The list of ways in which your life could be affected is endless. Is that what you want?"

As frustrated as I am, I know that this makes sense. "So I just have to leave."

"Only if you want to."

"But what about Jack? And Anna and Sophie? And everyone else?"

My parents look at me sadly. "Sweetie," my dad begins, "you can't tell anyone what you're doing. It has to be a secret between the three of us."

"So I'm losing everyone and everything."

"Not everyone," my mom says, but I know she's just trying to make me feel better.

There are tears streaming down my face, I know, but I try to be brave. I let out a long, drawn out sigh and take a moment to just stare at the ceiling. "Okay," I say. "If I have to."


	3. Boxes and Goodbyes

I've been staring at my wall for several hours, at least. After my third attempt to sneak out of the house to see Jack, my mom locked me in my room with instructions to finish packing…or else. That's always her go-to threat: or else, like the fear of the unknown would motivate me. I glance at the alarm clock that's sitting on my very empty dresser. 11:47. I leave tomorrow morning at 7 o'clock. This is my last night in this house, at least for a while, and I'm spending it alone in my room with my memories. _Well, I should probably start packing_. _You have to get up, Elsa_.

I stand and walk over to my closet. Most of the clothes have already been removed, packed away in suitcases with all my other belongings, but there are still a few things that I left out. I walk inside and move toward the left corner, taking tiny baby steps until one of the floorboards creaks under me, then I get down on my hands and knees and open my secret compartment. Jack is the only other person who knows about what we call the "secret stash", and we swore an oath when we were eight that we would never tell another living soul…or else. I smile at the thought.

Inside the compartment, there's an old, faded shoe box turned on its side. Its contents rattle as I remove it from its hiding place. I've spent a long time thinking about this box, about whether to bring it to my new home and life to have something that's my own, or to leave it for Jack and Anna and whoever else might come looking to remember me by. That time probably could have been spent doing something else, like putting the finishing touches on my new identity, but I'm so tired of going over that information that if I think about it any more I might just give up on the whole thing as a ridiculous scheme that won't work anyway. After some consideration and several long talks with my parents, we decided that both my last and first name would change. My last name was easy; I would just take the name of the people I was staying with, friends of my parents who I've never met because they live too far away. I can't even remember their last name at the moment, but I'm pretty sure it starts with an R or a T or something. Robinson? Tarington?

Deciding on my first name was more difficult. There were just too many options to choose from. _How do parents decide on names for their children?_ It's impossible, I think. In the end, we went with Clara. I think it has a nice ring to it. _Clara._

I turn my attention from my name and back to the shoe box sitting in my lap. The objects inside don't look like much, but to me, they're everything. The first thing that I pull out is a small white rock. This was what Jack gave me the first time we met each other, or so my mother tells me. I don't actually remember the exchange, I was four at the time. When I was younger, I would ask her to tell me the story all the time, because the way she said it always made it sound so fateful and interesting. She would get a small smile on her face and begin with: "You've always been a fireball of energy, but when you were four, even that was an understatement. One day, you refused to do anything, even sit down at the table and eat, until we went to the park. You wanted to show Anna – who was one year old at the time – how close you could get to the birds before they would fly away. So I packed up our lunch and set out with Anna in a stroller and you bouncing along by my side. When we reached the park, I set up camp next to the playground, so you could play if you wanted and I could keep an eye on you easily. After about half an hour or playing, you came back and were pointing out things to Anna, who was listening with a very concentrated look for such a little thing, when a little boy with white hair came timidly over to where we were sitting. He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched us for about a minute, then placed this little rock on the ground next to you. You stopped talking, looked at the rock, and then looked up at him. Both your faces broke into smiles, and you ran off to the playground together hand in hand. The rest, as they say, is history. You and Jack were meant to be best friends, apparently. And all because of a pebble." She always ends the story with that line, "all because of a pebble," and laughs like it's the funniest thing in the world. Who knows what we agreed on during our silent exchange, but it must've been important.

There's also a notebook in my box, that Jack and I used to create our own writing system so we could pass notes in code. We spent almost a week arguing about which symbol would stand for which letter, and in the end we couldn't keep the code going for more than a month, partly because Jack kept forgetting what certain things meant and partly because I lost my cheat sheet. I had forgotten that the paper was in my pocket when Jack dared me to jump into the pond near his house after school one day.

There are other things in the box as well; a ribbon that Anna gave me as a gift for my seventh birthday, the half-full package of rubber bands that Rapunzel and I used to make bracelets with, some obviously homemade arrowheads from that time that Merida had us all on an archery craze. There's that newspaper article from the time that Flynn convinced us that sneaking away from our class at the Burgess Museum of Natural History and staying there overnight was a good idea…and it was. The punishment we received the next day was nothing compared to the amount of fun we had playing Sardines in the dark in that museum. I also have some plans that Hiccup made for me. We were trying to create a communication system between all of our houses. It turned out to be too much work for twelve-year olds, but I kept the plans just in case we ever needed them again.

The last thing in the box is a photograph of all of us from last summer. Only Rapunzel and Hiccup are actually looking at the camera and smiling. Anna and Sophie were too captivated by a squirrel to pay attention, and Merida's hair was caught up in a gust of wind at the time. Flynn's making some kind of goofy face that involves raising an eyebrow and contorting his mouth, trying and failing to look cool, probably, and Jack's smiling at me while I try to balance a water balloon on my head. If I remember correctly, that water balloon ended up being smashed over his head after he stole my s'mores stick. _So many memories_.

As sad as I feel, I don't think that I can cry anymore. I'm tired of crying and feeling sorry for myself. I just want this to be over with. _No one will ever see me cry again._

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. I don't move.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice asks through the door. "Are you there?"

_Yes, but I won't be, soon._

"Why won't you come outside?"

Her words fade into silence, but I know that she's still there, waiting for an answer. My parents told me that Anna can't know about our plan, and since I already cut and dyed my hair this afternoon, there's no way I can answer the door now. I want to, though. My feet itch to run over, fling the door open, and envelop my little sister in a giant bear hug. I want to tell her that everything's going to be okay, but I can't.

Anna knocks again. "Elsa? I'm not leaving until you open the door."

_Yes, you will._

The silence continues. I don't dare move, just in case she hears me and tries to come in. I'm saved, however, by my dad, who swoops in just in time. "Anna, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I'm here to see Elsa," she says innocently.

"Elsa's asleep, sweetie. And she needs all the rest she can get, she has a long trip tomorrow." _Nice, dad._ Not only did he answer her question, but he also offhandedly told me to finish packing and go to bed.

"Where's she going?"

"Somewhere else."

"Will I ever see her again?"

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until now. Will I get to see my family and friends again? Will I see any of them? My dad is quiet, so he's probably thinking of a good response. Finally, he just says, "Yes, of course you will," but his tone of voice doesn't convey much confidence in his words.

"Now," he continues, "let's get you back to bed."

Anna protests. "But I wanna see her! I want to say goodbye!"

"You can say goodbye in the morning, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

"Okay."

I'm surprised that worked. Anna's usually a stickler about promises, enforcing the rules that the person in question has to say the words "I promise" before she believes anything they say like she's a justice of the Supreme Court. She must really be tired if she fell for that.

Speaking of being tired…I yawn. I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight, but I think it's worth it to at least try. I keep the shoe box; after going through it, I think I want to take it with me after all. However, before I put the floorboard back over the secret stash opening, I put seven letters inside, one for each of my closest friends. Sophie. Flynn. Merida. Hiccup. Rapunzel. Anna. Jack. The last two are obviously the longest; there are so many things I have to say to them. The floorboard slides into place. Hopefully, Jack will think about looking here someday. I close the door to my closet and get into bed. _Tomorrow, Elsa will be gone. Tomorrow, I'll be Clara. Tomorrow._


	4. A New Beginning

"Clara! It's time to get up!"

I open my eyes slowly, giving them time to adjust to the sudden increase in light as Mrs. Robinson flips the blinds open. It's taking me longer than I expected to get used to being called by a different name; even last night at dinner, Mr. Robinson had to repeat my new name several times before I realized he was trying to talk to me.

"Already?" I ask.

She smiles at me and moves from the window to the side of my bed. "I know it's early, but I have to be at work by 7:30, and you're riding with me. Now come downstairs when you're finished getting ready and we'll eat breakfast and head out." She leaves the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.

I sigh. My name isn't the only thing I'm having a hard time getting used to. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson are extraordinarily nice people, but they're not my parents. For one thing, they're older, and more…what's the word I'm looking for? More likely to stay in and enjoy the comforts of home than go out and have adventures like my parents do. They also keep insisting that I call them by their first names, Angie and Kevin, which isn't something I usually do with adults. Now that I think about it, though, it's probably a good thing. Elsa was adventurous and feisty, Clara is a reserved homebody. If I'm going to really embrace my new identity, I should embrace the things that make her who she is, and my new guardians are part of that.

I throw the blankets off my bed and go into the bathroom. After showering, I take a few minutes to look at myself in the mirror. The sight of my new face always surprises me; it's strange to see myself with short, dark hair and green eyes. I smile at my reflection, observing the way that my eyes only seem to half-smile with the rest of my face. "Good morning, Clara."

"Good morning, Clara," I respond before moving to my closet.

I repeat my new biography to myself as I dress for the day. "My name is Clara Robinson. I am fifteen years old. I just moved to Arendelle a few weeks ago to live with my aunt and uncle. I am an only child…" I pause there, partly because it hurts to say those words and partly because I've lost my train of thought while thinking about my wardrobe. I want to make a good first impression today at school. Back in Burgess, I never worried about what people would think of me, because I had Jack and the rest of the gang. Now, though, I can feel a growing pit of anxiety in my stomach where I would usually feel excitement.

I end up just throwing on an emerald green tank top and white capris. Since my hair is so short, there's not really a whole lot to work with, so I just leave it down and style it just enough to show that I actually made an effort, whereas I would always braid back my long blond hair when I still had it. I throw one more glance at myself in the mirror before grabbing my backpack and heading downstairs to join Mrs. Robinson in the kitchen.

The Robinson's house is absolutely gigantic, compared to ours in Burgess. My new guardians never had any children, but they must have planned to, based on the size of the house, and I know that they're absolutely thrilled that I'm here with them now. Because of that, I've been trying to share their enthusiasm, but at the same time, I keep finding myself thinking about my old life.

Mrs. Robinson looks up at me and beams as I enter the room. "You look lovely, my dear."

I smile. "Thank you. You look very nice as well."

"You just missed Kevin. He wanted to see you off on your first day of school, but he was called in a little earlier than usual. But he wants to know everything that happens to you today, so be sure to collect plenty of good stories for dinner tonight."

"I will."

"Wonderful. It looks like we're running a little behind schedule this morning, so you're going to have to eat on the way. Sound good?"

"That works for me," I say. It's probably my fault we're late. I spent way too much time this morning thinking about my appearance. I snatch up an apple from the counter as we make our way to the car. The ride to school is mostly silent. Even after spending almost a week in their house, I still don't feel entirely comfortable with the Robinsons yet.

Angie – I need to practice calling her that – drops me off at Arendelle Senior High School at precisely 7:25, giving me more than half an hour to check in and then wander aimlessly through the nearly empty halls, exploring and making a small attempt to figure out my way around. It takes me about ten minutes to locate my locker, where I stop and begin organizing my books and notebooks on the shelves. _If only I had some pictures to put up…but I suppose that would be "giving away my identity", and I'm not allowed to do that._ The thought makes me sad. Clara doesn't have any friends or family to speak of. I'm just starting to get sad when someone bumps into me from behind.

"Oops! I'm so sorry!" a very colorful figure exclaims as she bends down to pick up the contents of my bag that spilled out when she ran into me. I school my face into an almost emotionless expression, but allow a small smile.

"It's fine," I say as I bend down to help her collect the pens that are rolling every which way. While we work, I take a few glimpses of my companion. Her blond hair is streaked with various shades of blue, purple, and green, and she has some feathers dangling by her left ear. Her clothes are similarly colored, bright hues that bring attention to her, but don't seem to be "too much". _Clara wouldn't be able to pull that off…Elsa possibly could, though_, I think.

As we both straighten up again, she smiles as puts out her hand. I take it shyly. "My name's Ophelia, but no one ever calls me that. You can call me Tooth."

I have to keep myself from laughing. _Remember, you're Clara. Not Elsa. CLARA._ Clara wouldn't laugh, she would smile and not say much. "It's nice to meet you, Tooth. I'm Clara."

"Clara, huh? That's a pretty name. You're new here, aren't you?"

I nod. I just now noticed that her eyes are a strange purple color. _She must be wearing color contacts, too._ "I just moved here one week ago. This is my first day of school here."

She grins at me. "Well, don't you worry, Clara, you won't be alone! I can show you around today, and you can hang out with me and my friends. They're great, I promise!" She seems like a very enthusiastic person, like Anna…_no, stop that. Stop thinking about Anna. _

"Okay –" I start to say, but I'm interrupted by the arrival of three boys, who Tooth introduces to me as Sandy, North, and Bunny. Sandy is the shortest of the three, with golden blond hair and a nice smile. I notice that he doesn't say much, even when being introduced he didn't speak a word, just gave me a firm handshake and a wink. North, on the other hand, is both very loud and very tall, and he's intimidating as long as he doesn't talk. Tooth explains to me that he's a starter on Arendelle High's football team, which is a rare feat for an underclassman. The last member of the group is Bunny. Of all the people I've met so far, he reminds me most of Jack, at least in looks. They share a similar build, tall, but slender, and they share a somewhat similar hairstyle – which could be classified as general mess – but that's where similarities end. Where Jack is fun-loving and energetic, Bunny seems to be more serious and laid-back.

"So, Clara, what do you think of Arendelle so far?" North asks.

I consider his question for a moment. "It's nice," I reply, "but it's a lot bigger and louder than what I'm used to."

"Really? Where are you from?"

"Burgess." I reply without thinking, and immediately wish I could take back my words. Dangit, Elsa! I mean Clara! Or whoever you are! Think before you speak!

"You're from Burgess? I heard about what happened there…did you know her? The girl? Elsa?" he asks eagerly.

_What do I say?_ I try to act casual about it, and I think I pull it off pretty well. "I knew of her, and I saw her at school, but I didn't _know _her know her."

He just shrugs. "Oh well. I was gonna ask if you knew really what happened. There have been so many different stories floating around."

This peaks my interest, and once again, I speak without thinking. "What have you heard?"

"The only thing that all the stories agree on is that she and her friends were ice skating and some of them fell in. I've heard that she was supposed to be watching her sister and she didn't, but I don't think that makes her a bad person, do you? I heard one story, though, that said that she pushed one of her friends in. He's still in the hospital, last I heard."

_Jack's still in the hospital?_ I start to panic. Bunny must notice the color draining from my face, though, because he quickly changes the subject. "Clara doesn't want to talk about people she doesn't know, mate. Why don't we give her a quick rundown of the school before the bell rings?"

"Great idea!" Tooth slings an arm around my shoulders, spins me around, and marches me off down the hallway, with the others trailing behind. "Luckily, Clara, we're in the same homeroom, so we'll get to spend more time together…"

I smile my first real smile since moving here to Arendelle. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it would be. _I can't wait to tell Jack_…_stop it. Stop thinking about Jack._ I lose track of what she's saying after a while, and think about what's happened to me this morning. I'm glad that I ran into Tooth, and that she and her friends are so willing to include me, but I have to stop comparing all of them to the people I left behind. They can never be replaced or forgotten, but that doesn't mean I can't make other friends. _You can't stop living just because bad things happen to you. You have to just let it go, like dad always says, and move on. _And that's just what I hope to do.


	5. Calling Home

**Okay, I keep forgetting to do this, because I'm a cottonheaded ninnymuggins, but thank you so so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. Seriously. You're all super cool. (I'd write you all down here, but I don't want to risk forgetting someone, so just know that I love you. Got it?) Also, this story will get happier AND more interesting, I promise. Somehow, every time I write a chapter, it ends on a serious note...go figure. I'm working on it, yo.**

"How do you think you're adjusting to your new life? Did the transition go smoothly?" my mom's voice asks worriedly from the telephone.

I smile slightly. She's always worried about something. "Okay I guess…the Robinsons are really nice, they treat me like royalty."

My mother gives a small laugh. "You're like the daughter they never had. Of course they're going to treat you like a princess. Don't let it get to your head though, all right? And don't milk it. Be polite, say please and thank you, be respectful –"

"I know, mom," I say in an exasperated voice.

"Anyway, how's school going? Are you making new friends? It seems like you've been gone forever, I can't believe it's only been a few weeks!"

I pause for a second. Am I making friends? How am I supposed to make friends if I can't get close to anyone? "School is…fine. I'm doing well in most of my classes, and there are some kids that I hang out with during the day, so that's nice."

"Most of your classes?" she repeats suspiciously.

I wince. I was hoping she hadn't caught onto that. "Well, biology is giving me a hard time. I've never been good at science, you know that! And our teacher isn't very good at, well, teaching. He has the most boring lecture voice I've ever heard. I might as well be listening to crickets chirping for as much as I get out of it."

My mother doesn't interrupt me; she knows that talking to her each week is the only time I can be myself – sarcastic and outspoken – instead of pretending to be shy, unassuming Clara. If only my hair would grow back and I could take these contacts out during the phone calls, too, everything would be back to normal, almost.

"Well, you're just going to have to find someone to help you then. Have you asked your teacher for help?"

"Yeah, that was a terrible idea. Tooth and I – "

"Wait, Tooth? Is that a person or…an object?"

I laugh. "Tooth is a person. Her real name is Ophelia, but she hates it, so she goes by a different name, like I do. Do you think I could've pulled off a name like Tooth, instead of Clara?" I stop speaking for a moment and think. "I guess since Tooth is already taken, I'd have to think of something else. Throat? Calf? Ooh wait! I got it! Cranium. No one would ever forget my name."

The other end of the phone is silent, save for my mom's attempts to stifle her laughter. "Cranium? Cr-cranium….Robinson…"

"Okay, maybe not Cranium. But I could pull it off, if I wanted to."

"Sure you could, honey."

"So how's Anna doing? And Jack and Sophie? And everyone else?"

Now it's my mom's turn to be quiet. "Mom?" I prompt.

"Anna's doing fine. She makes it a point to ask about you every day. I've considered letting her call you, but I'm worried that she'll go and tell your friends about what you say, which isn't good. Sophie's doing well, she doesn't have any permanent injuries from the fall, which I told Mrs. Overland would be the case, but she didn't believe me," she says in a frustrated tone.

I roll my eyes. "I never would have guessed."

"Your other friends are doing well," she continues. "Rapunzel and Merida are still coming by every day to ask about you. Last I heard, Flynn and Hiccup are working on some kind of device that will help them find you…something about satellites and the Internet…but we both know that most of Hiccup's inventions don't work, so I don't see any harm in letting them continue in their efforts, do you?"

I wish they would find me. I don't say that out loud, because it would make my mom panic, but I do desperately wish that this was the time Hiccup succeeded and they could come to Arendelle and visit me, or take me back with them to Burgess. That would be even better.

_But wait…she didn't mention Jack_. "You didn't say anything about Jack, though, mom. How is he doing? Is he out of the hospital?"

She hesitates before answering. _Uh-oh. That's never a good sign_. I mentally prepare myself for the worst. "He was released last Saturday. He's mostly all right, but the cold took its toll on his legs. He can still walk, but he's using a cane now, and he has to go to physical therapy in order to gain back complete use of his legs."

I'm speechless. Jack Overland, using a cane? Jack, my best friend, who saved my sister's life?

"Elsa?"

I can't find the words to speak.

"Elsa?"

Still nothing.

"Clara?"

The use of my new name startles me enough to remove the blank feeling that had taken over my mind. "But he'll be okay in the end, right?"

She just sighs. "We do hope so."

_It's my fault. It's my fault._

"Honey, he'll be okay, okay?"

I don't respond. _He won't be okay. He's crippled._

"He asked about you the other day."

"About me?"

"Yes. Wanted to know where you'd gone and why you didn't come visit him while he was in the hospital."

I wince. "I tried, did you tell him that? I tried, but his mom –"

"I told him, sweetie. He looked angry, but he left after that."

"Angry at me? Or at his mom?"

"I don't know."

"Hmmmm. Mom? Will I ever get to see him again?" My voice sounds small and pathetic, like I really am Clara, and it makes me even more upset. _Am I turning into my alternate identity?_

"Well, at this point, Mrs. Overland hasn't filed any report against you. I'm starting to think that that was just a threat she made to send you away, and it worked, didn't it? So as long as you're not in Burgess, she'll most likely leave it alone. I can't guarantee anything, sweetie, but I do think that given enough time, she'll understand that it wasn't your fault, what happened to Sophie and Jack. Besides, it's not like they're the only two that got injured. Mrs. Overland seems to be forgetting – conveniently – that Anna was a victim, too, and that she'll probably have to have surgery for her hearing eventually."

Although my mom's words aren't exactly full of confidence, I still take comfort in them. _There's still a chance…still a chance._

"So back to these school friends of yours, what are they like? And who are they?"

"Well, I already told you about Tooth, she's just warm and bubbly and really nice. Sandy is really quiet, but he's usually up for anything that the others want to do, and he's very genuine, I think. North is intimidating sometimes, and it's hard for me to keep up the Clara disguise when he's around, because he's really funny. Bunny is…a little hard to get to know. He kinda reminds me of Jack in some ways, but Jack is way more outgoing. Bunny's pretty chill."

"Sheesh. All your friends have crazy names. Maybe you should go with Cranium. Then you'd fit in even more! Do you see them outside of school, too?"

"No," I admit. "I'm afraid about blowing my cover, so I keep making excuses to hang out with them on the weekends and stuff."

"That's probably for the best, I suppose. I'm sorry, Elsa, that you have to walk such a fine line here."

"It's okay, mom. This was as much my decision as it was yours, and besides, I'm taking dad's advice, and I'm letting it go." I'm through complaining about my circumstances.

"Good girl," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

I'm just about to respond when I hear a noise from the other end of the line. A loud knocking on the door. "Hang on, Elsa," my mom says. I can hear her put down the receiver and open the door.

"Oh. Hello, Jack."

"Hi Mrs. Winters. I was wondering if you could tell me any more about where Elsa's gone?"

"I can't, my dear."

"But…" I strain to hear, but the voices begin to fade, like they're moving further away from the phone. _Jack wants to talk to me. Jack misses me_. The knowledge is a relief, and that relief is quickly replaced with longing. I want to see my friend again. I want to watch his blue eyes crinkle when he laughs and hear him yell my name as we race down the street on our bikes. I miss him.

"Elsa?" Jack's voice blares from the telephone, loud and clear. "Elsa? Are you there? I –"

I put down the receiver. _That was a very Clara thing to do,_ I think to myself as I walk slowly back to my room.


	6. Just Words

**Disclaimer: I've been noticing that in my reviews, people keep asking when Elsa and Jack will meet again. My only answer to that question is "soon". I'm making big plans for their reunion, but I want to make sure, before that point, that Elsa's evolution into Clara is fully developed and believable, and I want to emphasize how this change affects her relationships with the people she's closest to, as well as how it changes her relationship with herself. It will most likely take me a few more chapters to reach that point, and then the real fun begins, but I wanted to clarify that before continuing with the story. **

**Anywho, you're all lovely people. Keep reviewing and following, and give me ideas if you have them! **

I arrive at school 20 minutes early, like I always do. Walking up to the front doors is the longest three minutes of my life…every morning. There's a group of older students who sit at the picnic tables in front of the school and catcall everyone who walks past, myself included. This morning, their calls include: "Hey brownie! Why don't you come over here and get to know us better?" and "Oh, here comes the Snow Queen!" I flinch a little at the last one, but just clutch my books tighter to my chest and keep my eyes on the ground and eventually reach the safe haven of the school building. I've been at this school for months now, and I still feel like an outsider.

Once inside the school, I head straight to my locker to deposit my homework there for the day. As I'm getting things straightened out, my mind wanders…right back to what the group yelled at me. _They called me the Snow Queen_. It's true that I've done a pretty good job of keeping people at an arm's distance, but I didn't think I was doing it well enough that the entire school would notice. Tooth and her friends are still the only people who really talk to me, but even they have been getting more and more distant throughout the time I've spent here. Oh, I see them at school and we talk, but eventually, after I shot down enough of their invitations to hang out, they stopped asking. Our friendship is based solely on the fact that we have to spend eight hours together Monday through Friday, and to be honest, I prefer it that way. I keep myself occupied with thoughts like this until the bell rings, summoning us to our first period classes. In my case, it's English with Ms. March.

As I take my seat in the middle of a row of desks, I sneak a glance at the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. There, written in large, loopy letters, is a name: Emily Dickinson.

"Emily Dickinson? Like the poet?" a bored voice from somewhere behind me asks.

Our teacher looks up from the book that she takes attendance in and gives the questioner a hard stare. The silence that suddenly invades the room is so complete, you'd think someone had just died. Ms. March is nothing if not intense – she loves English, and is almost terrifyingly passionate in its defense. "Yes, Eric, that's exactly who she is," she replies calmly.

He groans, accompanied with several more voices now. Tooth slips into the desk next to me while the others are still complaining and gives me a smile. I smile back and turn to Ms. March as she begins her presentation.

"Emily Dickinson, born in Amherst, Massachusetts in 1830, is considered to be one of the most important American poets of all time…"

I zone out. Poetry has never really done it for me. To be honest, no kind of writing really ever did it for me. It didn't need to. I had Jack and Anna and everyone else to go on adventures with; I didn't really have the desire to read extensively about everything. Since I've moved to Arendelle, I've started reading more, just because there really isn't much else to do, but I've stayed away from poetry. I'm not a huge fan of the flowery language and stuff.

I'm just starting to tune back in when I hear my name.

"Clara?"

"Yes?" I don't know what's going on, but I fix my eyes directly on Ms. March.

"Would you care to answer the question?"

There was a question? "Would you mind repeating it please?"

She smiles slightly and nods her head. "I was asking if anyone in the class had ever read any of Dickinson's poetry. Do you know any of her poems?"

_Do I know any of Emily Dickinson's poems? That's basically like asking me if I know the density of the moon or the capital of New Zealand._ "No, I don't. Sorry, Ms. March."

"Well that's good, that means you'll learn something new today," she says, before moving on to another student. I sigh. _At least I didn't get in trouble for not paying attention_.

After asking several more students, Ms. March gives us a pained expression, like we all personally wounded her by not knowing any of the works of Emily Dickinson. She turns back to her desk for a moment to snatch up a small, worn book, then takes up a dramatic stance in the front of the room and begins to recite:

"Hope is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I've heard it in the chilliest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me."

There's a small pause, and then she looks up from her book and we break out into spontaneous applause. Ms. March smiles widely and gives a very elaborate bow that causes her to nearly fall over, eliciting laughter from some students. I just give a slight smile. Clara doesn't laugh very often.

"Thank you. Thank you. Now, for your homework, I want you each to find one poem from Dickinson's works and prepare it for a public recitation, like I just did. If you want to reuse the poem I read, it's called _"Hope" is the Thing with Feathers_, and you can easily find it on the Internet. I highly suggest you do some extensive searching before settling on one, make sure that you're really made the rounds with her poetry, because there are plenty of hidden gems, just waiting for the right person to come along, read it, and give it personal meaning. Please have your poems chosen by our next class, at which point I will pair you with a partner to begin practicing saying them out loud. Any questions?"

Thousands of questions and concerns rush into my head, but I keep my mouth shut. I can feel panic rising in me like a tidal wave. _I have to recite poetry in front of the class? In front of the class?!_

When I get home that night, I immediately get on the computer to do some searching. "She just has so many poems," I say to myself out loud. "How am I supposed to choose one?"

"I took my power in my hand…Superiority to fate…" I mutter to myself as I scroll down a list of her works. I'm just about to give up when my eyes rest upon one title: _I years had been from home_. I click on it, and I just absorb the words.

I years had been from home,

And now, before the door,

I dared not open, lest a face

I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine

And ask my business there.

My business, - just a life I left,

Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,

I scanned the windows near;

The silence like an ocean rolled,

And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh

That I could fear a door,

Who danger and the dead had faced,

But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch

My hand, with trembling care,

Lest back the awful door should spring,

And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off

As cautiously as glass,

And held my ears, and like a thief

Fled gasping from the house.

I haven't been away from home for years, technically, but it still feels like it's been ages. I feel wetness on my cheeks and I realize that I'm crying. _What's wrong with you? It's just a poem._ But it's not just a poem. Not to me. These words, written by a woman who has been dead nearly 150 years, speaks directly to one of my greatest fears: fear. If I got the chance to go home and see everyone, would I do it? Or would I be too afraid? I suppose that I answered that question already when Jack tried to talk to me on the phone all those months ago, and I hung up on him, rather than listen to what he had to say.

_Elsa wouldn't be afraid of seeing the people she loves_, I remind myself fiercely. _Ah, but that's just it, isn't it? You aren't Elsa anymore. You're Clara. And there isn't anyone that Clara loves._


	7. Bullies

**Hey guys, I just want to quickly apologize for keeping you waiting for so long. I've been suffering from massive writer's block, and that combined with family vacations and two jobs is not conducive to quality writing time. I'll do much better at keeping up with this story in the future, you have my solemn vow. Anywho, let me know of what you think of this chapter, please. Thanks for all the feedback and followers. Keep 'em coming! :)**

My hands and feet are shaking, but I did it. I look out across the desks and the bored faces of my classmates and see Tooth grinning. She gives me a thumbs up. I smile back at her and then look over to where Ms. March is sitting. She, too, is smiling at me, but I notice that there's a weird kind of sadness in her expression.

"That was very well-done, Clara," she says.

"Thank you," I say, and move back to my seat quickly. I don't think anyone in this room knows how important reciting that poem was for me. _I years had been from home…_ I keep my eyes down as the next person steps up and begins to speak. _Another recitation of Hope is the Thing with Feathers. Joy._

I don't know how long I've been zoned out for before I hear chairs scraping along the ground as the other students in the class rush out. I scoop up my bag and start moving towards the door – and Tooth, who is waiting for me just outside the room – when Ms. March's voice stops me in my tracks. "I'd like to speak with you for a moment, Clara."

My green eyes stare into Tooth's purple ones as we exchange a look, and then I slowly turn around. I think she notices my worried expression because she adds "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything," reassuringly.

She sits down at her desk and looks up at me as I stand I front of her. "I just wanted to thank you, Clara."

Now I'm just confused. "For what?"

"For a couple of things, actually. First, thank you for being one of the few, brave students to actually find a poem besides the most basic, well-known Dickinson work. I don't know how many more recitations of Hope is the Thing with Feathers I can handle."

I can't help but smile. _She's mirroring my thoughts from before._

"The second thing I wanted to say is that I very rarely get the opportunity to hear a poem read with as much emotion as you read yours. It brought tears to my eyes, how much you obviously connect to the piece. Thank you for sharing that with me, and with your classmates."

I'm speechless. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "Thank you, Ms. March. That poem does mean a lot to me," I hear myself say, although I can't really register when I came up with those words. She just smiles at me and nods at the door. "You can go now, Clara, I just wanted you to know how wonderful that was. I don't want you to be late for your next class."

I nod, pick up my backpack, and shuffle out of the room as quickly as I can. Tooth is waiting for me as I step into the hallway, and immediately swoops down with questions. "What did she say? Are you in trouble for something? Was it about your recitation? Tell me!"

I laugh and hold out a hand to keep her at an arm's length from me. "Deep breaths, Tooth. I'm not in trouble. She just wanted to tell me that I did a really good job reciting today, apparently. That's all we talked about."

"Oh." I think she was expecting something a little more dramatic, but she doesn't ask any more questions. "She's right though, you did a fantastic job."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks."

She bumps my shoulder with hers as we walk down the hall towards our lockers. "I'm serious, Clara. You almost made me cry, it was so sad."

I shrug. "It made me cry, too, the first time I read it. That's why I chose it. I like words that can really make you feel things." That's one thing that I wasn't able to fully appreciate until I became Clara, until I really had nothing better to do than to sit in my room and read, rather than run around with Jack and the rest of the gang and cause problems. I love words, the way they can be shaped and formed and the way they can really make you _feel_, like whatever the words describe was actually happening to you.

"But where did you find that poem? I looked all over and didn't find anything as good as that one."

"Online. I'm something of an expert at random Internet searches."

She throws her head back in a laugh. Just like every other aspect of her personality, Tooth's laugh is both highly enthusiastic and infections. I join in.

"Well, next time we have to do some research, I know who to ask for help, then."

I shake my head. "Nope. You can't afford me."

She's just about to respond – with something snarky, I can tell by the way her eyes move to the side and the half-smile she makes – when the shrill ringing of the bell sends her rushing away in a panic. "OhnoI'mgoingtobelateforclassI'lltalktoyoulaterClarabye!"

I wave at her and continue down the hall. I have a free period next, and since I'm not a troublemaker, teachers tend to let it slide when I'm late, which doesn't happen often. I reach my locker and open the door when someone's hand lands on the locker next to my head. I jump, but don't turn around. This is the first time I've been approached this way, and I'm not really sure of what to do.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Snow Queen," a voice whispers in my ear. Not really a whisper, but quiet enough that I know it's meant for me. The voice seems to sneak down my spine, like a spider, and goosebumps form on my arms. I shiver, and turn around to face my harasser.

Yellow eyes stare back at me. Pale face. Black hair. Black clothes, too, from what I can see. I'm so close to him, I could count the hairs on his head if I wanted to. I don't. All I want to do is get as far away from him as possible. I try the meek Clara tactic first; duck my head, avoid eye contact, and just turn around and leave. It doesn't work, as his other hand grasps the side of my locker door, creating a trap for me.

My second option is to act confident. I straighten my shoulders into what I think could look like a strong stance and glare up into his face. "What do you want?" I demand.

He doesn't answer right away, instead just inspects me like he's trying to decide whether I'm worth his time or not. As the seconds tick by, a slow grin starts to make its way across his face, but somehow, on him, it looks more like a sneer. He leans in towards me, and I move away, as far away as I can get, which isn't enough. "I just want to know," he starts, "why you're so cold."

"Excuse me?" I glare at him.

"Brrrr. You see what I mean, Snow Queen?"

_There it is again. Snow Queen. The name I get for shutting people out. For doing what needs to be done. But I don't shut everyone out. I let Tooth in sometimes, and her friends…sometimes._

"What's it to you?"

He looks genuinely puzzled. "It's nothing to me. I'm just curious. People like you are usually hiding something. I want to know what it is."

I open my mouth to speak when another voice booms out from down the hall. "Clara? Is that you?" and a large hand claps down on my harasser's shoulder. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief. _North._

"Pitch." He says neutrally.

"North." The yellow-eyed boy says back.

"I think it's time for you to be on your way," my rescuer says. He words it like a suggestion, but his tone of voice makes it clear that it's a command.

"Fine with me," Pitch responds casually. He leans back and removes his hands from where they were fencing me in, and with another sneer turns his back and starts walking away. "See you later, Snow Queen," he calls mockingly as he turns a corner.

I let out my breath now, a shaking rattle that I didn't know I was capable of making. North looks at me in concern. For such a big guy, he's pretty intuitive. He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Was Pitch bothering you?" When I nod, his eyes crinkle up into a glare in the direction that Pitch left, but he makes no other sign to show that he's upset.

He looks back at me and smiles. "Well, don't worry about him. Whatever he said to you was probably just something stupid anyway. He picks on everyone in this school. I'll keep an eye out for you though, okay? And Bunny and Sandy will too. Let me know if this happens again."

I smile up at him. I always forget how tall North is until he's standing right next to me, then he's suddenly a giant. "Thank you," is all I say, and apparently it's all he needs to hear, because he gestures formally with his hand - like a prince leading a princess into a ball - and starts walking me down the hallway, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be strolling through the school with me in the middle of the morning.

_So this is how Jack felt when those stupid guys made fun of him for his hair…and me. But Jack didn't have a North to stand up for him, and he doesn't have me to stand up for him either. Hopefully he's a lot stronger than I am. He has to be._


	8. The Project

**This chapter is really short, sorry I'm not sorry :) Have fun!**

_Pitch hasn't bothered me since the incident by my locker, but sometimes I can feel his eyes watching me, like a sinister yellow spotlight, taking in my actions and movements and throwing them back in high relief, analyzing me. Whenever this happens, I square my shoulders and hold my head high. This is Elsa shining through my Clara disguise, wanting to prove that she – that I – won't be so easily frightened. I'm not sure if he buys it or not, but I keep doing it anyway. I haven't told my parents about the trouble, they can't do anything about it and it would only worry them. I don't want to cause them any more worry than I already do. Angie and Frank remain in ignorance as well, but it's okay. North is being a really good sport about escorting me around, as have Bunny and Sandy, although that has slackened off in the past couple of weeks, because I felt bad making them almost late to every class. Tooth obviously knows what's going on, because I notice her watching me out of the corner of her eye, but she hasn't said anything. I appreciate all that they're doing for me. It's nice to have friends again._

_I can't believe that I've been in Arendelle for two years. The anniversary of the incident about a week ago, which means my anniversary of leaving Burgess to come here is coming up in several days. Happy Departure Day to me. I should make myself a cake or something…I think I will. Cake can go with anything._

I stop writing and look at the words that I've scribbled across the page. Since there aren't many people that I can talk to about my life, I've taken to telling myself these things. It's surprisingly useful. The lamp I'm writing by flickers slightly, probably because the wind is so fierce outside right now. I just put down my pen when there's a knock at the door.

"Clara? Can I come in?" Kevin's voice sounds timid, which is very unlike him.

"Of course," I respond, and he swings the door open and stands in the doorway, apparently unsure of where to go now that he's gotten permission to enter.

"Here." I move to sit cross-legged on the bed and gesture to the chair I leave behind. He smiles and takes a seat, and we stare at each other in silence until he speaks.

"So, Clara, I know that we don't usually talk about school, since that's mostly Angie's domain, but Ms. March called me a few days ago at work with an interesting proposal for you. Apparently they – and I'm still unsure of exactly who "they" are – are starting a project called an 'inter-school exchange' where they pair students together who show promise as writers, singers, and musicians. Given your passion for writing and your love of words – which is what Ms. March called it when she called – she thought you might like to give it a go." The last sentence wasn't a question, but it sounded like one.

"Me?"

He nods, waiting for my reaction.

"Um. What does the project entail?" I ask, stalling for time. I'm genuinely surprised that Ms. March thought of me. I knew she had taken an interest in me, but there are other kids in her class that are much more talented than I am.

Kevin shifts in the chair and removes his glasses. "She only gave me a basic framework of the timeframe, but essentially, you'll be assigned a partner from another school within our district, and over the summer you'll have opportunities to meet and get to know them. The project really begins in the fall, and that's when you and your partner will work together to write a song or some kind of musical number which you will them perform at a concert in the spring. It would look really good on applications, I think, because the project itself is new and difficult to get into."

I let the words bounce around my head for a while. _Partner….song….concert…_ The Elsa side of me is jumping up and down in my head right now, squealing "Do it! Do it!" while the Clara side of me is shrinking back in a timid whisper "No, I couldn't."

After a few minutes, Kevin interrupts my mental argument. "So, Clara, what do you think?"

I can tell that he wants me to say yes. And to be very honest, I want to say yes. But it's Kevin that decides for me. In the past two years, he's accepted everything about me in his quiet way, without asking questions and without forcing me "out of my shell" like Angie tries to do every once in a while. I feel indebted to him because of that.

"It sounds like fun. Sure, I'll do it," I say, a slow grin spreading across my face.

"You will? Fantastic!" He exclaims, slapping his knee with an excitedly outspread hand. "I'll go tell Angie," he says as he strides out of my room. But then he stops and turns to me, "I really think you'll enjoy it, Clara. You weren't meant to be a caged bird in the house like this all the time. It's time you soar." Then he's gone.

-A few weeks later-

I sit at my computer and watch the dark window where my assigned partner will appear. Ms. March went through every detail with me about the program earlier today, and I run through it in my head as the time of my first meeting with my partner approaches.

1) The first few meetings will happen over a Skype-like computer program, not in person. During these meetings, you can really talk about anything you like, even get started on the final project if you want, but they're mainly part of an introductory stage where you can get to know your partner and test your dynamic. If it's a good match, wonderful. If you don't feel you can work well together, let one of the supervisors know and we can assign you a new partner.

2) During the summer, there will be an optional in-person meeting that will take place mid-June at a yet to be announced location.

3) Real work on the project does not begin until the fall, when school starts again. When that happens, there will be weekly communication between you and your partner on the nature of your project and the steps you each will take to achieving it.

4) Your project is set to conclude the last week of April, upon which date you must submit it to the committee for review. At this time, it's suggested that you begin practicing your performance, if you haven't already.

5) During the second week of May, there will be a concert in which you will perform your song or musical number for a crowd of people. This is meant to be a fun event, rather than a stressful one, so don't take yourself too seriously and you'll be fine.

I'm pretty sure that Ms. March paraphrased most of these for me, but that's okay with me. She makes it sound so simple, as if I'm not going to write a song with a complete and total stranger. _Will I like him or her? What if we don't get along? What if they don't like my lyrics or I don't like their music? Why are they taking so long? _A thousand and one scenarios run through my head, each one more ridiculous than the last. I check my appearance in the reflection of the screen. Short brown hair, the same green eyes I've seen every day for two years. If anyone from my old life, Anna and my parents included, saw me on the street they probably wouldn't recognize me.

The computer screen catches my attention as the dark screen flickers and turns on, revealing a blank wall and a blurry image of a blue shirt that is way too close to the video recorder. I hear a muttering that sounds something like, "How do I turn this thing on?" _It's obviously a male voice_, I think to myself, and then the person sits down. A face that I would recognize anywhere smiles at me from miles and miles away.

My heart starts to beat faster, at an irregular, jumpy rhythm. Clear blue eyes smile at me, the same ones that I used to watch crinkle in laughter and mischief. The hair is messy and untamed as I remember it, but now it's a deep brown instead of the pure white it used to be. I'm sure my eyes are wide in surprise, but my partner just grins at me and speaks.

"Sorry I'm late. Hi, I'm Jack Frost."


	9. Partners

**This chapter was really fun to write, and I even surprised myself at the end of it, so I hope you all enjoy!**

_Jack? Jack Frost? Jack freaking Frost? How in the world did this happen? I don't see you for two years and now…what the hell happened to your hair?_ I don't say any of this out loud, of course, but with these thoughts running – sprinting – through my head, I can't think of anything to say, can't even remember what he just said. I can only focus on the fact that my best friend is staring at me and doesn't know me.

I'm shaken out of my panicked state of silence by computer-screen-Jack tapping his finger against the video recorder, causing the screen to shake slightly. I blink, probably for the first time since I saw his face, and try to contort my mouth into something resembling a smile. "Oh, sorry, I think my screen froze or something. My name's Clara Robinson. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jack." I don't know where that excuse came from, but I go with it.

He chuckles. _Since when does Jack chuckle? Why does he look so grown up? What happened to his hair? _"That's technology for you. Can't live with it, can't live without it." I laugh vaguely and agree. There's an awkward silence that stretches for a few seconds while we stare at each other uncomfortably.

"So…" he begins, apparently searching for some kind of question to ask. I should have made some conversation cards or something. "How did you get roped into doing this?"

I shrug. "My teacher called my uncle and asked him if he thought I'd be interested. I was. How did you get in?"

He mirrors my shrug and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was, and somehow it still looks good. _Seriously, what happened to his hair?_ I don't know why I'm stuck on the whole hair thing, but it's really strange to have that one detail so incongruous with my memories of Jack. "I saw a flyer at school, thought it sounded kinda cool, so I applied. My mom really wanted me to try it, too," he laughs, and then adds: "One does not simply say no to my mother."

The words, "I know," are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them in. _Clara doesn't know. Elsa, go away!_ Instead, I just smile and nod. "I know the feeling, that's how my aunt is sometimes."

He pauses for a moment, and I get the feeling he's deciding something. Then he looks up again and I see a question in his eyes. "Okay, this is probably too personal since we just met and all, but you mentioned and aunt and uncle but not parents."

"Oh." I look down at my hands, which are clasped tightly together in my lap. "I live with my aunt and uncle here in Arendelle. My parents are…" I trail off. What can I say about my parents without giving something away? I don't want to lie to him. Again.

Jack puts his hands up in a calming gesture. "You don't have to say anymore. I was just curious."

Before another silence places its heavy hand on our conversation, I jump in with a question. "So where are you from? And how old are you?"

"Burgess, so we're actually pretty close to each other, only two-ish hours away. And I'm seventeen, gonna be a senior this year."

"Me too."

"For real? Wow, talk about coincidence. So why haven't I heard of you before? Our schools play each other in sports and stuff."

I laugh out loud. "I don't really do sports. I mean, I used to, but not anymore."

He grins sheepishly. "Oh. Well that explains it I guess."

"So I take it you play sports?"

"I do. Football, basketball. Not track though. I hate track. Besides, not doing sports in the spring means that I can focus on practicing guitar."

It suddenly dawns on me why Jack was assigned as my partner now. "So you're the instrumentalist, are you? That's why we're partners."

Jack's expression right now reminds of the cartoons I watched when I was young. I wouldn't be surprised at all if a lightbulb went off over his head right now. "Ah…" he says. "You're a writer, aren't you?"

"I guess. I mean, I haven't really tried writing songs, but I'm willing to try."

"We're in the same boat, then. I don't usually try to make up my own music, it always sounds terrible, so we'll have to try together."

"Do you play any other instruments besides the guitar?" I know the answer to this question. He plays the piano, just like I do. Back when we were inseparable, we begged our mothers to give us piano lessons, then ended up begging them to let us stop taking them. I was better than Jack at playing, but I'm probably really out of practice now, it's been at least five years since I stopped playing.

He grins at me. "I play the piano, but my knowledge extends to scales and chopsticks, and that's about it."

It's so easy to talk to him, it's like nothing has changed. _Except his hair. Let it go, Elsa._ Talking to Jack, it's easier to forget who I am now and remember who I was…who we were. I have to remind myself that I'm not Elsa, that I'm Clara, otherwise this will get really complicated, really quickly.

"You never know when knowing chopsticks will come in handy, though. It's a valuable skill," I respond. "Wait a second, if you can play and I can write, who's gonna sing?"

He looks at me, and I look at him. Then, at the exact same moment, "Not it!" _Stop it, Clara or Elsa or whoever you are._ We used to do that all the time as kids, especially when it came to asking for permission to do something, since the answer was usually no anyways.

He starts to laugh, but then stops and tilts his head slightly sideways, staring at me with new interest. "What?" I ask when his looks starts to make me uncomfortable.

"You remind me of someone, Clara."

_Uh oh. This is what happens when you're not careful enough, Clara._

I raise my eyebrows. "Who?"

Just when I think he's about to answer, he waves my question away. "It's nothing."

It bothers me a little bit that he won't say more, but I don't ask again. I divert back to the question of singing. "Well, I'm sure we'll figure out the singing thing a little later into the project. We still have to write the song first."

"A valid point," he responds. He's still distracted, I can tell, but I choose to ignore it. To make myself less recognizable, I start fiddling with my hair, trying to emphasize the fact that it's so different from Elsa's long, light blond locks.

As if on cue, my phone starts ringing, a string of notes that jump around, creating a melody of organized chaos. The name on the screen shines "Mom". I look down at it and look back up at Jack. "I need to take this call, okay? Sorry we couldn't talk longer, but maybe again sometime soon?"

He nods, and a smile returns to his face. We exchange phone numbers quickly and as soon as the screen goes blank I lift my phone to my ear. "Mom?"

"Elsa, how are you doing? How was your first meeting with your partner?"

"It was….interesting."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know how this could have happened. Mom, my partner is Jack!" I exclaim, and the panic that I initially felt begins to make its appearance again, first through a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and then in a faint tingling at the back of my head.

I expect her to be as surprised as I am, to gasp out loud in alarm or some other sound of shock, but all I hear from the other end of the phone is my mother's self-satisfied voice: "I know."


	10. Questions and Answers

**Alright people, here it is. I tried to answer some questions that you all have voiced in the reviews, and please keep asking questions! It's really helpful for me. I'm really excited about where this thing is going. EEEEEEEEEEEE. Also, I'm considering writing some chapters from Jack's POV, but I can't decide, so please let me know in comments/reviews/whatever what you think about that idea. I will take your opinions into account - really, you guys will be deciding for me - so if you feel strongly about this, let me know. Seriously. Enjoy!**

"You what?" I yelp. I'm pretty sure my voice just rose an octave in about three seconds, and my initial panic is replaced with a deep anger that I didn't know existed until this moment.

"I know," she says again, in her annoyingly calm voice that just increases my fury.

"What do you mean you know?" I demand.

"I helped set up the pairings for the exchange. As a member of the committee that organized the project, I had a say in the decision-making process." She's speaking as simply as if she were telling me the time or how the weather is outside.

I make an outraged spluttering sound. "How could you, mom? You're the one that told me it would be best if I moved and left Jack and my friends and you guys alone, and now you're forcing us back together? What the hell?"

"Elsa," she says sharply, "language."

"Explain."

She sighs into the receiver. I can imagine her at this moment, leaning against the kitchen counter, idly doodling on a corner of the newspaper as she talks to me. The mental picture upsets me for some reason. She's acting like this isn't the earth-shattering event that I think it is.

"Elsa, everything that I've ever done for you I have done with your best interests at heart. I just want you to know that before I go any further, okay?"

"Fine. Now tell me." I don't want to hear her excuses. I want answers.

"I need you to calm down. And don't interrupt me, no matter how much you want to."

I don't respond, and after a moment of silence, with only the sound of the telephone connection faintly crackling in my ear, she continues. "Alright. First, and your father will say the same thing if you ask him, I thought you were lonely. Every time I talk to you on the phone, you never mention friends. You never go out, never invite anyone over, it's not healthy, my dear. You need to have friends your age, even if they aren't as close as the ones you left behind, it's not good to shut people out."

I can feel the words of denial and outrage forcing their way up my throat, but I hold them in my mouth, don't let them out. _You told me it would be for the best not to get too close to anyone. You're part of the reason this all happened in the first place. It's not my fault that I'm stuck by myself in this God-forsaken city…_

"…understand that you might be worried about Jack's mother, as well. In the past two years, she has really mellowed out. She never brought up the incident on the pond after a few months, and she seems to just be in a better place than she was back then. She even changed back to her maiden name, Frost, instead of using Overland like she was before, even after the divorce. I'm sure you noticed that Jack uses the last name Frost now as well?"

I didn't actually, but now that I think about it, why didn't I notice something as major as that? Maybe it was just the shock of seeing Jack again after two years, but I'm slightly ashamed of myself for not realizing that his name was different. _I was fixated on the hair. You can only concentrate on so many things at once._

She doesn't wait for me to respond, just jumps back in to her explanation. "I haven't told her that you and Jack are partners, but I honestly don't think that she would be upset about it. Like I said, she's different. Happier, less prone to hold grudges and lose her temper. I've known Mrs. Frost for a long time, Elsa, I can tell she's changed. And I think that if she knew you two were working together, she would be grateful for it."

"What do you mean?"

My mom doesn't address the fact that I just interrupted her, but answers my question all the same. "Jack's struggled since you went away. Anna and Rapunzel have been keeping your father and I up to date on what goes on at school since you left, and according to them he's had a tough time with some of the other high schoolers. You probably also noticed that his hair was different?"

"That I did."

"He dyed it about a year ago. Apparently one of the things he was being bullied about was his white hair, so he finally just caved and got rid of it. I don't know how long he's going to keep it up for, but it seems that when his hair color changed, he himself changed as well."

"Jack's changed? How? He seemed the same to me."

"Having a five minute conversation with someone you haven't seen in two years when they don't even know who they're talking to does not tell you anything about a person, Elsa. He's become popular, which isn't necessarily good or bad, but he also doesn't really hang out with your group of friends anymore. He's gotten into some trouble, too. Nothing too serious or anything, but he is a bit of a troublemaker, and not in the innocent way that you guys were as kids. I would give you details, but I don't know them. Anna isn't privy to all the rumors and information that goes through that school since she's just a freshman, so that's all I know for sure."

"And you think he started doing all of this because I wasn't there?"

"I do."

"But why?"

"Elsa, you were his rock. The one thing that was always there, and then you were gone too. Can you imagine how that would make you feel?"

"I don't have to imagine, mom." It's a simple statement, but the moment it leaves my mouth I feel like it's an accusation, as well.

"Yes, well…" she trails off for a moment. "You didn't go crazy, did you? You became a nice, responsible young woman-"

"With no friends and nothing to make me interesting or unique," I finish for her. "Let's not try to ignore the fact that without you and dad, Anna and Jack, Rapunzel and Hiccup and Flynn and Merida, I have become a very boring non-individual."

"Elsa." She says my name gently, in an almost-whisper, and I know she's going to try to deny what I just said.

"Mom." I say matter-of-factly.

"Well, just know I disagree with you, but I'm not going to argue with you right now."

_What a shame. I was looking forward to a good argument._ "So you think it's okay that we're partners? What if he recognizes me, mom? What if he finds out? How am I going to keep this from him? How can I lie to my best friend?"

"You don't have to lie, Elsa. Tell him the truth, or parts of it. And yes, I do think it's okay. You don't realize how much you've changed over two years, sweetie. Angie sent me a picture of you a few weeks ago, and if I hadn't known that it was you, I wouldn't have recognized you. Anna saw it too, and then asked me who it was and why Aunt Angie had sent it to me. Your hair is different, your eyes are different, you've grown up. Puberty does that to people. There's no chance that Jack will recognize you unless you want him to."

I expect to feel relief at her words, but instead I just feel sad. _Anna didn't recognize me. My little sister doesn't know me anymore. Neither does Jack._

I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. The spiderwebbed pattern that stretches from wall to wall is mesmerizing to me. I have spent many late nights inspecting the ceiling and finding a myriad of shapes, designs, and faces in the endlessly changing arrangement of lines. "Mom, I'm still not totally sure about this, but I'll give it a go."

I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies. "That's my girl."

"And…" I stop. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me a second chance. With Jack. You're right, I am lonely, and I miss him – and all of you guys – with all of my heart."

"I know you do, my dear. We all miss you too. Things will change, Elsa, and someday you'll be able to come back home. Hopefully, that time will come sooner than we think, but this is an important first step."

After chatting for a little longer about inconsequential things – Anna's various sporting events and her other antics that make life interesting for my parents – we hang up. As soon as I put down the phone it dings again, the short two-note sound that means I have a text message. I ignore it for the time being and pull out my notebook, where I've systematically collected quotes and basically anything having to do with words that has caught my eye over the past two years. There's a certain poem I'm looking for.

If  
Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you  
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;  
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,  
But make an allowance for their doubting too:  
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,  
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,  
Or being hated don't give way to hating,  
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;  
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,  
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster  
And treat those two impostors just the same:  
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken  
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,  
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,  
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings  
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,  
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,  
And never breathe a word about your loss:  
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew  
To serve your turn long after they are gone,  
And so hold on when there is nothing in you  
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,  
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,  
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,  
If all men count with you, but none too much:  
If you can fill the unforgiving minute  
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,  
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,  
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

I finish reading and glance over at my phone again. The screen is dark, but a green light keeps flashing at the top, indicating the unread message that I've ignored. I reach over and scoop up the device, turning the screen back on with a click of a button and opening the message. I stare at the words and then smile, quickly typing a response and turning back to the words on the page in front of me.

_Hey partner. Nice talking to ya, I'm looking forward to working with you for the next year! –Jack_

_The feeling is mutual! Talk to you soon -Clara_


	11. The Truth

**Sorry it's taken me so long, people! In way of excuses, I don't really have any good ones, so I won't even bother. I did write this chapter at work tonight, so there's that - it really helped pass the time, actually, I might have to start doing that more often - and I'm quite satisfied now about where this is headed. Anywho, hope this is worth the wait. Thanks, friends.**

_I haven't talked to Jack since our first meeting almost a week ago. I hope likes me…Clara, that is…_I continue in this train of thought until I realize that I'm referring to my best friend like he's a complete stranger. The final bell has already rang, but I'm still by my locker, putting my books and papers in some kind of order. Tooth sidles up next to me with a huge smile plastered on her face. I smile back at her, but she doesn't say anything. After a full minute of being fixed in her disconcerting purple gaze, which I should probably be used to by now, I break the now-creepy silence. "Um…hello?"

She doesn't say anything, but keeps smiling at me. "Okay you're starting to freak me out. Out with it, woman!" I demand in an authoritative tone.

Tooth throws her head back in laughter. "Clara, Clara. I just heard from a somewhat unreliable source that you're doing the Interschool Music Exchange with Jack Frost! Is this true?"

I'm caught offguard for a moment. "Uhmm," I clear my throat. "Who told you?"

"So it is true?" She asks excitedly, her violet eyes shining.

"Yes."

"That's so awesome! Jack's a pretty cool guy, you know," she says with a knowing smile.

Now I'm suspicious. "Okay, first, how did you know that Jack's my partner, and second, how to you know of Jack in general?"

She waves my questions aside with a casual movement of her hand, as if she were batting a fly away from her face. "To answer both your questions at once: Bunny."

"Bunny?!"

"Yep." She doesn't really seem inclined to elaborate, but I press on. _If she didn't want to talk about it, then she shouldn't have brought it up in the first place._ I put my hands on my hips like Mrs. Overland – Mrs. Frost, I guess now, according to my mother – and fix Tooth with my sternest look. "Care to explain?"

Tooth immediately catches on to my drill sergeant tone and takes it a step further (as always) by clicking her heels together, standing at attention, and saluting me stiffly. "Sir yes sir! Bunny told me, sir. He and Jack are friends, sir. They met at a football game after North totally creamed Jack and felt the need to apologize to him after the game, sir. Bunny and Jack started hanging out, with North and Sandy too, of course, sir. I only met him once, sir, when you and your aunt and uncle were on vacation last summer sir. He seems like a nice guy, sir. He texted me over the weekend asking about you, sir –" I interrupt her as she's taking a deep breath to continue her word vomit.

"Wait wait wait. I'm going to ignore the fact that you're calling me sir instead of ma'am, but he asked about me? What did he say? What did you say?" She must have heard the catch in my voice, because she gives me an inquisitive look and drops her voice to a whisper.

"I'll tell you, Clara, if you tell me something in return."

"Deal," I say quickly, immediately regretting the agreement. What if she asks me about Burgess and my life before Clara? Am I going to have to lie, again?

"Why –" Tooth's question is cut short by a black-sleeved arm settling on her shoulder, while another comes to rest across my own shoulders. I don't even have to look to know who it is, but I flinch when he speaks all the same.

"Hello ladies." His voice is light, but it somehow drips with a sinister quality all the same.

"Pitch," I respond icily, keeping my eyes firmly looking forward. I will not give him the satisfaction of looking at him. My hands curl involuntarily into fists as he begins to speak. "So what are you two talking about so secretively over here?"

"Nothing that concerns you," I say curtly.

He chuckles under his breath, which makes goosebumps rise on my arms. I can see Tooth shiver slightly at the sound as well. "Tut tut. No need to be so cold, Snow Queen. I was only asking an innocent question."

Tooth rolls her eyes, and I copy her. "Yeah, right. What do you want?"

He shakes his head at me, as if my behavior disappointed him in some way. "So hostile. And here I was thinking that we could be friends. What did I ever do to you?"

I'm done here. I don't have to do this with him right now. "You know what," I say, checking the clock that's hanging above the lockers, "I'd love to stand here and chat with you, but we've gotta get going." I take Tooth's hand, pick up my backpack with the other, and duck under Pitch's arm, dragging my companion with me. We get about halfway down the hall when I hear his oily voice call out, but I don't turn around.

"I'll see you around, _Clara_." The emphasis he places on my name makes me suck in a quick breath, but I just grasp Tooth's hand tighter and quicken my pace to the doors. Tooth doesn't say anything, but throws me a look that's somewhere between utter confusion and deep concern. _He knows_.

Our mutual silence continues until we're in Tooth's car, three blocks from the school building.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "Apparently that creep has taken it upon himself to make my life miserable."

"But I thought North and Bunny and Sandy had put an end to that."

"Mostly, yeah. But sometimes I can see him watching me out of the corner of my eye, or following me between classes. I wouldn't be surprised if he has done research on me, too. He's told me before that he would find out all my secrets."

Tooth gives me a wry, skeptical smile. "Now you just sound paranoid."

"I know."

I can tell she's thinking, so I don't say anything. "But," she finally says, "why does it bother you so much? It's not like you have any deep, dark secrets anyway."

_Oh, Tooth. If you only knew_, I think sadly. I've come close to telling her about my past before, but some irrational fear of my story somehow being overheard has always kept me back. I have the overpowering urge to tell her everything right now, though.

I respond to her quasi-question too quickly. "It just does. How would you feel if someone was doing this to you?"

"You don't need to be so defensive." She sounds a little hurt. "Unless…" she trails off, and I can almost hear the gears clicking and whirring in her brain. "Unless…" she starts again, "you do have a deep, dark secret that's worth hiding?"

I know the game is up. I'm not a good liar, and Tooth knows this. Besides, she's accepted all of the rest of my weird qualities without question, all my dissatisfying excuses for why I can't hang out with her and the guys. _She may as well know this, too_.

"Tooth, I'm gonna tell you something, okay? And you can't let this leave your car, because I've kept this secret ever since coming to Arendelle more than two years ago and it's not something I want spreading around now." She nods slowly and waits for me to continue.

"First off, my name's not Clara Robinson. It's Elsa Winters. I moved here because of the ice skating accident that Jack and his sister Sophie, and my sister Anna were all involved in. I got blamed for two reasons: 1) it was my idea to go skating, and 2) Jack's mom is a lunatic…" I tell her the rest of the story in as much detail as I can think of, ending with my mom's decision to make Jack and I partners only a few weeks ago. By the time I'm finished, Tooth's expression has become one of shock.

"So, wait." She says, and shakes her head a few times. "You're Elsa? What do you really look like?"

I smile. "Hold on," I say, and I turn the other way to remove my contacts, changing my eyes from green to my natural blue. I turn back to her and she gasps.

"Clara, I mean Elsa, your eyes…"

"And my hair is naturally a really really light blonde, but I can't really show that to you right now," I say, grinning at her. It's a fantastic feeling to have someone else know about my secret identity. It's very…liberating.

"Okay, Tooth, now you have to tell me about what Jack told you about me. Did that make sense?"

She laughs, and I can tell she's still coming to terms with the fact that I am not who she thought I was for the past two years. "Let me think…he wanted to know if I knew you, which I do, so I just told him about you. You're mostly quiet, but have become considerably more vocal in the past six months or so…your favorite subject is English, you're a fantastic writer and performer…"

"I am not a good performer!" I protest. "You're spreading lies about me!"

"Nonsense! Your performance of that Dickinson poem was fan-freakin-tastic, and don't you even try to deny it!" She shoots back at me.

"Fine. Did he say anything else?"

She cocks her head at me. "He asked me when you came to Arendelle. After what you just told me, I think he might be putting together the missing pieces of what happened when you left Burgess, Cla-Elsa."

"Shit."


	12. Knowing

_I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful_. I've been repeating these words to myself over and over since Tooth dropped me off at home an hour ago. Hopefully they'll sink in eventually. My ceiling is very interesting to me right now, and I follow the swirling patterns with my eyes and lean back in my chair to get the full effect of the patterning. For some reason, the colorless designs are a comfort, a small sort of calming mechanism.

Tooth and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking about Jack and my new/old identity. She's having a hard time getting my name right. I may just have to start responding to the name "Clelsa" if she keeps this up. When I asked her why she thought Jack was onto me, she was very thoughtful for a moment.

"I don't know, really. I just got the feeling that he was asking me his questions about you for a very specific purpose, like he wanted to verify something, you know?"

I nod.

"Hey," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "Don't sweat it, okay? It'll all work out. I won't tell, you won't tell, it'll be fine."

I sigh. "The thing is, though, I'm not sure whether I want him to know or not. It kills me that my best friend doesn't know who I am. It really bothers me. And if I had confirmation that his mom really had forgiven me, then I would tell him in a heartbeat. At the same time, though, maybe if I told him he would be really upset with me for shutting him out and just leaving without telling him, and I would hate for him to hate me too. You see where I'm going with this? I can't tell him and I can't not tell him. Ugh. This is so complicated!"

Tooth is looking at me with a somewhat amused expression on her face. "What?"

She shrugs. "Then don't tell him anything. Don't even bring it up. Drop the subject, and don't make it awkward."

I'm thinking about her advice when my phone buzzes. I glance down at the screen and see that a new text message has arrived from the one and only Jack Overland-Frost. _Speak of the devil, and he shall appear_, I think to myself as I open the message.

_J – Hey, Clara. Sorry it's been so long since we've talked. This past week has been crazy. You busy right now?_

Why does he want to know if I'm busy? To be honest, I've been both dreading and looking forward to this moment. Our second session. Yikes.

_C – Not a problem, Jack. Life's crazy, no worries. I'm actually not totally swamped at the moment, why?_

It takes less than a minute for him to respond. Less than half a minute, actually.

_J – You wanna use the Skype-thing again? I'm logging in right now._

_C – You bet. Hang on a sec._

I drop my phone on the desk and pull out my laptop, which is still sitting in my backpack that I left by the door. I flip open the computer and place it gingerly on the desk, it's a very fragile, temperamental piece of technology. Angie and Kevin have offered to replace it for me, but they've already done so much for me without ever asking for anything in return, I just think it wouldn't be fair to give them another expense. I quickly log in to the website that the Exchange uses for communication and click on Jack's name. A window pops up on the screen, and the first thing I see is a close up of Jack's forehead – and his hair, which I still am not okay with – as he struggles to make his screen work.

"I can't….this stupid blasted thing…" I hear him muttering under his breath and cover my mouth with a hand to stop from laughing. Instead, I tap on the screen a few times. "Ummm…Jack?" I say loudly. "I think it's working. You can stop now."

"Oh." He leans back into his chair with a sheepish smile on his face. "Computers are really not my thing, but I was feeling ambitious this afternoon and thought we should give this thing a whirl."

I laugh. "I'm not a huge fan of computers myself, but we'll have to get used to it I suppose."

"Suppose so. Since writing letters is probably not very efficient and carrier pigeons are out of the question."

"It's hard to find a good carrier pigeon these days."

"Smoke signals, too. You barely get them started before the fire department shows up, thinking that you're an aspiring arsonist or something."

_Oh sarcasm, how I've missed thee_. My "aunt and uncle" are wonderful, beautiful people, but the fine art of the sarcastic comment is not something they are adept at.

"Looks like we're stuck using computers to do our dirty work."

He grins at me, running a hand through his dark hair. "Dirty work?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually, but anyway…have you given any more thought to our song, partner? Any ideas on what to write or sing or whatever?"

Now it's my turn to look a little sheepish. "Not really, no. I'm still stuck on the question of who's gonna be doing the singing."

"Not me."

"Not me, either."

We just stare at each other for a little while, green eyes staring down blue ones. I finally break the silence when our contest becomes a bit too intense, when Jack's eyes become a little too searching for my liking.

"Well it's gotta be one of us."

"Not me."

"We just went through this. We'll have to flip a coin or something."

"Or we can fight it out, it would be more interesting than flipping a coin."

"But you would win."

"True. So it's decided, you're singing?"

"No."

"How about…" he thinks hard for a moment. "We wait until that camp thing during the summer, when we can talk face-to-face, and then decide on this?"

I smile. "Sounds like a good idea, then we can argue in person rather than online."

"Nothing beats a good argument."

"I disagree."

"Oh really? What –" he interrupts himself as a look of comprehension crosses his face. "Ohhhh. I see what you did there."

I make a small wave of my hand, like I was taking a bow. "I'll be here all week. All year, actually."

"That makes two of us. I haven't really thought about the song a whole lot, either, but I figured that we could start by kinda figuring out what genres of music we both like and go from there? Maybe?"

Jack's a planner. Huh. I begin to agree with his proposal, to ask him what kind of music he likes, but a different question distracts me, and I just go with it. "Jack, do you do well in school?"

I can tell he's a little surprised, but he too rolls with the conversation. "I get by. My teachers – and my mom – have been telling me for years that I could be a straight A student if I just _applied myself_," he says, using exaggerated air quotations around his last words, "but I figure there are better things to spend my time doing than studying. So to answer your question, I do okay. Just average. Why?"

I raise my shoulders slightly and let them fall again. "I was just curious." I need to be more subtle when I try to go prying into his life_. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful._

"Since I answered your question, can I ask one now?"

I cringe inwardly. What if he asks something I can't – or don't want to – answer? I can't really say no, though, without drawing suspicion, can I? Damn it.

"Sure," I try to say as casually as possible.

"When did you move to Arendelle?"

Where is he going with this? "A little over two years ago."

"Where did you live before that?"

"Berk. It's a smallish town that's about 45 minutes west of here." I've never even actually been to Berk. That's where Hiccup was from originally, and when he was new to Burgess he used to talk about it all the time. It was also the only city I could think of.

Jack seems a little disappointed, and I use this to my advantage. A distraction. "But that was technically two questions, so now I get another one."

"Fire away."

_Let's just get away from the personal now, shall we?_ I think to myself. I'm mentally kicking myself for asking that stupid question in the first place. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful. "Back to the music stuff, what is your favorite genre?"

He grins. "Now see, that's a difficult question to answer, because there are so many things that I like. I'll go with…rock, I suppose. But not heavy metal, nothing super intense or with a whole lot of screaming or anything, just good ol' rock."

Before I can say anything, he quickly jumps back in. "Let's not write a rock song though, okay? I really prefer acoustic guitar to electric."

"That's fine with me," I respond. "And I'm really just down with any kind of music, except rap. I don't really want to rap in front of hundreds of people. I would be kicked off the stage before I even opened my mouth."

Jack laughs, and his blue eyes crinkle up just like I remember them doing. My stomach clenches, but not with nerves, it's more like butterflies with a little dash of nostalgic pain thrown in for good measure. _Oh, how I've missed this kid._

We continue on in this vein of conversation for another ten minutes or so, going back and forth between things we shouldn't do, which really accomplishes nothing but lets us feel as if we're being productive. Our discussion is cut off when there's a knock on Jack's door.

"Come in," he calls, and Mrs. Overland – Mrs. Frost, dang it! I'll get it right eventually – appears in the far left of my screen.

"Jack," she begins somewhat impatiently, "have you not heard me? I've been calling you down for supper for the past five minutes."

"My bad, mom, I've just been talking to my partner for the music exchange thing."

"Oh," she says. "Well I suppose that's all right, but wrap it up, okay?"

"Sure thing."

I've been holding my breath this whole time, hoping that I wouldn't be noticed, but Mrs. Frost doesn't leave right away. She actually walks over to where Jack is sitting and leans down to take a good look at me. I lean away from the screen instinctively, but her brown eyes hold me in place just as I'm thinking of faking a lost connection.

"Hello," she says, and smiles at me. "You must be Clara?" I nod, and she continues. "I'm Jack's mother. It's wonderful to meet you, dear. I wish you the best of luck in keeping this child of mine in line." It's meant as a joke, but I can't seem to laugh. So I just put on my best smile and somehow squeak out a thank you before she leaves the room.

Jack looks at me closely and then sighs. "Well, I should probably head down. Next week, same time?"

"Sure." The single word comes out shaky, like I just faced down a mountain lion or something. _Blast it, Elsa! Control your voice_!

"Great, see you then!" He says, and I don't get the chance to respond as the screen goes dark.

"Bye," I say to my reflection, and then lean back in my chair again and run my fingers through my now shoulder-length brown hair. I can't tell if Jack knows who I am or not, but I need to somehow get him to talk about Elsa and feel out how he'd respond if he knew who I was. In the meantime, though, _I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful. I need to be more careful_.


	13. Summer

**Okay, let me start by saying I'm so so sorry it's taken me this long to post. And because of that, I'll try my best to post a few chapters within the next 24 hours, or maybe just even a few tonight. This has been my first night off of work in a while, and I'm milking it. I literally sat on the couch and read all afternoon, and I'm just getting to this now. Anywho, keep reviewing, keep asking good questions, keep following, keep giving good feedback, and most importantly, keep being awesome.**

"I hate summer."

I check my watch. _Ten minutes. Right on time_. "You and me both," I reply. North looks up at me from behind the set of cards he's holding and waggles his eyebrows at me. Next to me, Bunny groans loudly.

"Would you two give it a rest already? How long are you going to keep up the complaints? It's only been summer for three weeks!"

"Aye, three weeks of hell," North answers seriously. "I hate the heat. The only thing summer is good for is being out of school and getting one season closer to winter again."

Bunny just shakes his head in exasperation, while I not in agreement. Like my freakishly athletic friend, I too prefer the cold to the heat. I look back down at my cards. Two clubs, three diamonds, and a spade. Luckily my partner has more trump cards than I do, or we'd lose our bid for this round. After the first week of summer, we were all sick of hearing North complain about being outside, so we decided as a group to spend today holed up in Kevin and Angie's basement playing cards…playing Pitch, to be exact, although I don't really care for the name of the game.

"Your turn, Sandy," I say. He nods at me and taps the side of his head.

"Don't rush him, Clara," Bunny says in a mock-stern voice, "decision making is a very delicate process."

I just laugh. Tooth finally convinced me to hang out with the guys when school ended, after I told her about my real life. I've really given up trying to push people out…or at least, people in Arendelle, the people in Burgess I still need to really stay away from.

While we wait for Sandy to make a decision, North looks over at me curiously. I raise an eyebrow at him and wait for the question that I know is coming.

"So…Clara? What do you think about Jack Frost?"

_I knew it. _Luckily, two and a half years of being Clara have increased my ability to maintain a poker face in awkward situations. "I honestly don't know much about him," I say, "but he seems like a good guy. I like him. Why?"

North shrugs and tries to play off my question. "Oh nothing, really. Tooth mentioned that you're working on a project with him."

"Yeah. It's pretty cool actually. We're gonna write a song together, or at least that's the plan." I let my answer hang in the air for a moment, and then jump back in before North starts talking again. "How do you know Jack?" I know the answer to this, since Tooth told me, but I don't mind hearing another version of the story.

"We're friends. Well, actually, he's more Bunny's friend than he is mine," North says sheepishly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…he's still afraid of me."

I laugh. "Afraid?"

"I might have possibly knocked him out during a football game. Literally."

I look over at Bunny, who's studying his cards with a fierce expression and trying to fight a smile. He looks up at me and winks quickly, then looks back down. It's always a good time when we can make North feel awkward, since it happens so rarely.

"You knocked him out?"

"Basically…yes."

"So if he's afraid of you how are you friends?"

"I caught him after the game, he was still a little out of it at this point, and apologized to him for giving him a concussion. He was cool with it, I suppose," North lets out a little chuckle. "Bunny offered to help him carry his stuff to the Burgess bus, and I guess they just became friends. God knows he needs more," he grins at Bunny, who glares at him.

"I was just trying to be nice, mate. The poor guy could barely walk in a straight line."

North says nothing, just looks down at his cards again with an expression of shame and amusement. After a few seconds of studying his cards industriously, during which Bunny and I try to contain our laughter, he looks over at Sandy for a distraction.

"Have you picked a card yet?"

Sandy's face is screwed up in concentration, and his only response is a small shrug. Bunny, on the other hand, lightly cuffs North's shoulder. "I told ya, don't rush my partner. My fate in this game relies on this guy."

As he finishes speaking, Sandy triumphantly picks a card out of his hand and deposits it on the table with an unnecessary flourish. The queen of diamonds, just the card needed to demolish my hopes or reaching my bid for this round. North groans dramatically, and Bunny's face lights up in happiness. "Good work, mate."

We play for a little while longer, until my phone buzzes. I answer quickly. "Hello?"

"El-Clara? You guys still at your house?" Since I told Tooth my real name, she's gotten into the habit of trying to call me both at once, which never ends up well.

"You bet," I say. "And you better come quick and rescue me and North. Sandy and Bunny are creaming us at this game."

She just laughs. "I'm on my way right now. I would've been over sooner, but they kept me a little longer than I thought they would." Unlike the rest of us, who are just planning to laze around for most of the summer, Tooth jumped on the ball and got an internship/volunteer position at the local dentist's office, which she is strangely excited about. I've never met anyone who has such an affinity for and interest in the contents of the human mouth than Tooth does.

I shrug, even though she can't see me. "It's no biggie. Just let me know when you're outside so I can let you in." Angie's one rule for letting me have friends over when both she and Kevin are at work is that I keep all the doors locked and the security system on, something that I would do religiously even if she didn't tell me to.

"I'm turning onto your block now. Just meet me at the door in, like, a minute."

"Cool. See you soon."

I toss the phone on the couch that's against the wall and look up at my three companions. "Tooth's here, I'm gonna run upstairs to get her real fast." I stand up and add in a stern voice, "Play nice until I get back."

Bunny slumps in his chair and intones in a purposely whiny voice, "But mom…"

I laugh and race up the stairs, just reaching the top when there's a small knock at the door. I glance quickly through the peephole just to verify that it is indeed Tooth, and there's no mistaking the colorful figure at the front door. I punch in the code to disable the system and unlock the bolted door.

"Hey, how was it?"

She's bouncing on the balls of her feet, which only happens when she's super excited. "It. Was. Awesome," she breathes. "I didn't realize how much I loved dentistry until I got to be around the actual work, you know?"

I nod, although I don't know, and don't really care to. Teeth hold no more fascination for me than carpet does. They serve a purpose, and you have to keep them clean, but that's where my interest in them ends. She smiles and changes the subject. "I could go on and on about this for years and still never get tired of talking about it. How's the card game going?"

"Ugh." I respond. "Why didn't you tell me that Sandy and Bunny were an unstoppable team?"

"I did. You're the one that said you could beat them."

"That's when I was young and foolish. Now I know better. Next time, we're splitting them up."

She nods sagely. "North is usually adamant about not letting them play as partners. Maybe he just wanted you to learn your lesson since you're new."

"Well, I've most certainly learned it."

Our conversation is interrupted by a call from the bottom of the stairs. "Clara? Your phone's buzzing again. And Tooth, come join the fun! We're totally owning these two!" Any other comment is cut short by the sound of someone getting tackled.

Tooth and I give each other a look of fake exasperation. "It's like taking care of children," she says while following me down the stairs. The scene we stumble upon in the basement only emphasizes her statement.

North has Bunny in a headlock while his captive flails his arms and legs furiously, but futilely. Sandy, who is usually just an innocent bystander or an appreciative audience during these scuffles, has taken on the role of an MC during a boxing match, as he counts the seconds that Bunny is firmly entrapped in North's terrifyingly strong grip.

"Guys," Tooth starts, but that's all she has time for as the shenanigans end abruptly.

"Tooth!" North exclaims loudly, releasing Bunny and moving quickly to his feet and over to where we're standing. You'd think he hadn't seen her in fifteen years, when really it's only been a few days since we hung out last as a group. "How was the dentist's office?" Bunny and Sandy quickly join the group, with the former ruefully rubbing his neck and shooting glances at the speaker every few seconds.

Tooth just smiles. "It was a lot of fun," she begins, and as she proceeds to tell them about her day in painstaking detail, I remember that Bunny had said my phone was going off. I retrieve it from the couch and check my messages. No new messages, but a voicemail that hadn't been there before.

"Guys, I'll be right back," I say and move back towards the stairs. From experience, I know to get some space between the others and myself before trying to talk on the phone. I sit down on a step right in the middle of the flight and push the necessary buttons to start the voicemail rolling.

Angie's voice on the line sounds a bit louder than usual, like she's talking over a significant amount of background noise. "Clara, honey, I need you to call me right away when you get this. Alright? Don't worry, nothing's wrong, but call me, okay?"

_What in the world?_ I think to myself. Angie never calls me unless it's really important. I press the callback button and only have to wait for three rings before my guardian answers.

"Clara?"

"Hi," I start. "You said to call back right away, so…here I am. What's up?"

"I hope I didn't startle you, but I thought you'd like to know. Kevin just forwarded an email to me from Ms. March….apparently the date for the official meeting/camp thing for your Music Exchange has been moved up."

"Really? How much?" I'm a little confused; as much as I'm both excited and anxious to "meet" Jack in person, I don't really think this is something that merits a phone call. She could have told me tonight at supper or something. Besides, it can't have moved up much. Our camp is scheduled to happen the second week of July, and since it's only the first week of June, I have plenty of time to prepare myself.

"Well," she says, "due to some unforeseen issues with booking the event, it's going to start next Monday."

There's silence on the line. "Monday?" I manage to croak out.

"Now don't panic, you still have plenty of time. I mean, it's only Thursday, right? You have the whole weekend to prepare."

"Um…I'm…" I start, and then shut my mouth before something stupid comes out. I clear my throat once and try again. "I'm panicking just a little."

She laughs, and her laughter calms me down a little. "We'll talk more when I get home, all right? I just thought you should know as soon as possible."

"Thanks, I'll see you tonight." I say, and our brief conversation ends as quickly as it began. I shut the phone and just sit on the stairs with my hands in my lap, staring down at the carpet at the base of the stairs. _I'm going to see Jack in less than a week. What am I gonna do?_


	14. First Time

_J – Running late…I'll be there in about half an hour or so. Can't wait to meet you in person!_

_C – Not a problem, but don't make a habit of it, mister, or I'm getting a new partner._

_J – Rude. And we haven't even met yet!_

_C – Shut up and drive._

Looking back at our texting conversation, I smile. He should be getting pretty close now. Luckily for me, the location of our meeting is only 15 minutes away from Arendelle, which means it's almost 2 hours away from Burgess. I'm sitting on my bunk with my unpacked duffel bag. Since I'll be spending a few day here, I had to bring a few changes of clothes and stuff, but most of the bag is packed with lined paper – for writing music – and an assortment of writing utensils, plus some sheet music and my iPod. I'm not sure exactly how much work we'll get done, since all conversations I've had with Jack so far have gotten hopelessly off topic, but there's no harm in being prepared, I suppose. I swing my legs off the bed and stride through the cabin door, taking my iPod, a notebook, and a pen with me. I'm actually sharing the space with a couple of other girls that I've never met before, but they're all out somewhere, hanging out or working with their partners or something. From what I can gather, most of them already knew a little about the people they were working with, if they weren't already good friends with them. Jack and I seem to be one of the only matches in which we barely knew anything about each other….well, Jack didn't know me, at least.

The camp is a small site, with only a few cabins and a main dining hall. Since this is the first year of the exchange, there is only a handful of participants; it's a little exciting to think that we're some sort of test group. More girls than guys are doing the program, which is to be expected, but still, I was surprised by how many guys there were. Almost every pair is a boy and a girl, there are only two or three that are both girls.

I seat myself on a bench in the middle of the green space between the main hall and the cabins and put my earphones in, losing myself in the music and the wide blue sky.

Can anybody find me somebody to love?  
Each morning I get up I die a little  
Can barely stand on my feet  
Take a look in the mirror and cry  
Lord what you're doing to me  
I have spent all my years in believing you  
But I just can't get no relief,  
Lord!  
Somebody, somebody  
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I smile to myself. I love a good Queen song. The drama, the choir-sounding feel of the background singers, the powerful, soulful voice of Freddie Mercury. I've often wondered about this song, why was it written, what's the message behind it? One thing I've always liked about Queen is that they don't seem to take themselves too seriously, even when they're being serious. I don't think that makes a whole lot of sense, but my appreciation of them is hard to pin down. I just like it, I guess there doesn't have to be an explanation. I close my eyes and start to hum along, then begin quietly singing to myself as the song progresses.

I work hard every day of my life  
I work till I ache in my bones  
At the end I take home my hard earned pay all on my own –  
I get down on my knees  
And I start to pray  
Till the tears run down from my eyes  
Lord – somebody – somebody  
Can anybody find me – somebody to love?  
Everyday – I try and I try and I try –  
But everybody wants to put me down  
They say I'm goin' crazy  
They say I got a lot of water in my brain  
Got no common sense  
I got nobody left to believe  
Yeah – yeah yeah yeah

I'm just getting to the climax of the song when there's a nudge of my foot and I open my eyes. Jack's standing in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. His dark hair is hidden under a baseball cap and his bag is still slung over a shoulder. I blush and remove my earphones.

"Clara," he says in greeting.

"Sorry…how much of that did you hear?" I ask cautiously.

"Enough," he responds, and there's stifled laughter in his voice.

"Gosh, that's embarrassing," I say, and quickly change the subject. "How did you recognize me?"

He shrugs. "Well, it's not like I've never seen you before, and," he pauses, "I don't know, I just…I knew it was you. Besides, who else would be sitting by themselves? I'm pretty sure I'm the only late arrival to camp. Everyone else is probably with their partner already."

"Hmmm…that's true. Which means that you already owe me for being such a patient and understanding person."

"I'll try to make it up to you with my awesome guitar-playing skills."

"Awesome? That is yet to be decided. I haven't even heard you play anything yet. How do I know you're not just making the whole thing up."

As I knew he would, Jack recognizes the challenge in my voice and immediately rises to it. "Want me to play right now? I can," he says, gesturing at the guitar case resting on the ground next to him.

I laugh and wave his offer away. "Nah, you can unpack or whatever you need to do first."

"Wanna show me where the Bluejay cabin is? I have no idea where I'm going."

"Sure," I say, pushing myself to my feet. "This way." I lead him to the last cabin at the end of the row, three houses away from my "Robin" cabin.

"Welcome home," I say, presenting the structure to him with solemn pomp and circumstance.

Jack eyes the cabin critically. "It could do with a little landscaping, and maybe a repainting, but looks cozy."

I laugh. "Please, you'll only be staying here for three days, tops. Just unpack so we can get down to business."

"As you wish." Jack bows gracefully and opens the door, then turns back to me. "Stay," he commands, and then heads inside.

I only have to wait a few minutes before he returns carrying his guitar case across his back. "Quick unpacking," I observe, and he nods.

"I'm just gonna live out of my suitcase. No reason to take everything out."

I came to the same conclusion when I first got here, and tell him so. He inclines his head to me. "We're two peas in a pod, Clara. Which means that this partnership will either go really well or very badly."

"Please, contain your optimism," I respond sarcastically, and he just grins again and follows me to the main building. "I'm just being realistic," he continues. "I personally think we'll get along really well, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the worst."

I don't respond. What happened to the Jack that sees the bright side in everything? What happened to eternally optimistic Jack? I suppose he may have some trust issues or something after I – after Elsa – left him without warning, but I honestly didn't think it would affect him so much. I mean, it affected me, but Jack always seemed so much stronger.

Without acknowledging his previous comments, I open the door to the dining hall. "There are some practice rooms in here, and I got one reserved for us for today at least."

"How did you manage that?"

"I'm a very good negotiator."

"Ah. Threats and promises, I see."

"Mostly threats, but you know how it is."

The practice room that I "reserved" is just an empty space, except for a few chairs and an old piano that is thankfully still in tune. I tested it out earlier with a quick rendition of Fur Elise, or at least, as much of it as I could remember off the top of my head. I used to have it memorized, but it's been a while since I played.

Jack takes one look at the chairs and seats himself in the one closer to the piano. Instead of joining him, I sit on the floor instead, crossing my legs and pulling out my notebook. My pen is still stuck in my ponytail, and I leave it there for now.

"So," I say, looking up at my best friend where he's sitting adjusting the strings on his guitar.

"So," he responds without looking up. "What's the plan?"

"You're asking me? I don't plan anything if I can help it," I say, earning another grin from him.

"I second that. Unfortunately, this project requires at least a small amount of planning," he says ruefully.

"Do you have any good ideas?" I ask.

He shrugs, but he seems on the verge of saying something, so I stay quiet and wait, which has worked for me in the past with Jack.

"Remember how we couldn't decide on who was gonna sing?" he starts.

"How could I forget? Our first fight," I say mockingly. He laughs this time, but is undeterred in pursuing the topic of singing.

"I've been thinking about that a lot, and I think you should do the singing." I'm about to flatly refuse but he keeps talking. "Just hear me out for a sec, okay? I wasn't going to say anything, but you're actually a good singer, okay? Your rendition of Somebody to Love was really good, even when you didn't think anyone was listening."

"You've got to be kidding me," I say.

"I'm not joking," he replies, and the serious expression in his usually playful blue eyes is enough to convince me that he's being genuine.

"But…" I start, and he interrupts me again.

"Can we try something?"

"Sure."

He rummages through his guitar case and pulls out several papers, handing them to me. "Do you know this song?" I peruse the first sheet for a moment and then nod. Thanks to Kevin's love of older rock, I am well acquainted with the work of Johnny Cash.

"Good. I'm going to play this song, and I want you to sing along, okay?"

I make a face. "Fine, but after this, you're gonna sing a song for me, deal?"

"Deal," he says, then leans over his guitar and begins picking out the notes and chords of the song. I close my eyes and wait for the moment when I'm supposed to come in. I always forget how depressing and melancholy song this is until I hear it.

I hurt myself today  
To see if I still feel  
I focus on the pain  
The only thing that's real  
The needle tears a hole  
The old familiar sting  
Try to kill it all away  
But I remember everything

What have I become  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know goes away  
In the end  
And you could have it all  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns  
Upon my liar's chair  
Full of broken thoughts  
I cannot repair  
Beneath the stains of time  
The feelings disappear  
You are someone else  
I am still right here

What have I become  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know goes away  
In the end  
And you could have it all  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt

If I could start again  
A million miles away  
I would keep myself  
I would find a way

As the last chords of the guitar fade into silence, I bow my head to keep Jack from seeing the sudden moisture in my eyes. _Why did he choose this song?_ It seems a terrible coincidence that the lyrics fit my situation so well. I peek up at him to see that his head is down, too, and he's staring at the floor with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" I ask timidly.

He looks up at me and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "No, I'm fine. It's just…" he stops and seems unwilling to explain.

"Just what?" I'm probably pushing my luck, but I've never seen him in such a vulnerable state and it seems like a good time to press for some information, to see if he would tell me something – anything – about Elsa. _I'm being heartless_.

"Just…this song. It's one of the first I learned on the guitar, it was very fitting for that time of my life. It still is, I guess," he says, looking back down. "And to hear you sing it, I don't know, it's just bringing back that time to me."

"I'm sorry," I say simply.

"It was my idea to play it," he responds, and we sit in silence for a little while.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Sometimes it's easier to say things like this, really personal things, to strangers than it is to tell them to people who know you really well. _Luckily for Jack, I am both a stranger and someone who knows him well._

He shrugs and the silence stretches out. It's not an uncomfortable quiet, though, it's just…quiet. After a while he looks up at me. "I had a friend, my best friend, growing up. She disappeared. I never knew what happened to her or where she went. Her parents knew, but they wouldn't tell me – they still won't. This song reminds me of her."

_The song 'Hurt' by Johnny Cash reminds him of me? Did me leaving hurt him that badly? Does he understand how much it hurt me? _It's shocking how much this song fits both of our experiences.

I don't say anything, because I'm not sure if my voice is working at the moment. Jack's grin returns, though, and he says in a much lighter voice, "I did tell you you could sing though, didn't I? That was really good." The vulnerable moment is over, Jack's eyes are back to their usual sparkle. I just shrug. "Well, let's not jump to any crazy conclusions about who's singing. It's your turn now."


	15. Collaboration

**Hey all you people. I am having way too much fun writing this thing, your reviews are extremely motivating! Please keep them coming! And also, when you read this chapter, please keep in mind that I do not plan anything in advance, I just do what I want when the time comes to do it. I have several big things planned out that will take a while to build up to, but each chapter just comes and forms itself, really. That being said, I really want to know what y'all think of this, so please, be very vocal! Toodles!**

Jack groans as I seat myself at the piano and let my hands hover over the black and white keys. _What do I play? What do I even know how to play anymore?_ I search my memory frantically for something that Jack can sing to. Most of the pieces that I learned were classical, so there wasn't any singing involved. I know some really basic versions of popular songs, I suppose…and then it clicks. Don't Stop Believin', by Journey. I know how to play that! _Thank God for YouTube videos_, I think to myself as I begin to pick out the correct notes.

"You ready?" I look back at the chair where he was sitting and find it empty. My heart starts to sink. _Did he sneak away?_

"Ready." His voice almost makes me jump. I don't know how I didn't notice him moving to sit at the edge of the piano bench next to me, but there he is. I nod briskly and start playing in earnest, giving him a significant look to cue his starting lyrics.

Just a small town girl  
Livin' in a lonely world  
She took the midnight train  
Goin' anywhere  
Just a city boy  
Born and raised in South Detroit  
He took the midnight train  
Goin' anywhere

The chords are really simple, which gives me a little room for embellishments, but I'm finding it difficult for some reason to concentrate on both playing and listening to Jack singing as well. He seems a little reluctant, but I keep playing. _He's not getting out of this so easily_.

A singer in a smoky room  
The smell of wine and cheap perfume  
For a smile they can share the night  
It goes on and on and on

Strangers waiting  
Up and down the boulevard  
Their shadows searching  
In the night  
Streetlight people  
Livin' just to find emotion  
Hidin' somewhere in the night

I stop playing there, and Jack heaves a sigh of relief. "I can't remember how the rest of the song goes," I say, and it's not a lie. I haven't played the piano, let alone that song in particular, in a long time.

"I told you I couldn't sing," he says jokingly. I laugh a little. I have to admit, he doesn't have the best singing voice, although it's definitely passable.

"You'd better not quit your day job."

"Ouch. That hurts. You're supposed to say, 'No, Jack, it was really wonderful. I could listen to you sing for hours on end.' You're supposed to make me feel good about myself."

"You value lies over honesty?" _How ironic, coming from me_.

"When it involves my ego, of course."

"I'll keep that in mind during this project."

Jack throws his head back to laugh, causing his baseball cap to slide off his head. Seeing his dark hair in person sends a shock through me. For some reason, it still surprises me to see his hair. Whenever I think of Jack, I think of white hair and blue eyes, not dark hair. It effectively reminds me that he is not the same person that I used to know, and neither am I the person he used to know. In fact, he doesn't know me at all. All of this flashes through my head in the few moments it takes for Jack to reach behind him and snatch up the cap again.

He smiles a small smile as he fits the hat back onto his head.

"Attached to that thing much, are you?" I ask.

"This is the hat my dad gave me the last time we hung out together before my parents' divorce was finalized, so yeah, you could say that."

I drop my eyes, embarrassed both by my comment and by the simple, straightforward way that he said that. "I'm sorry," I start, "I didn't know."

He shrugs. "No biggie. He wasn't a very good dad anyway, and my mom's a lot happier now that he's gone, but I still like to keep this, you know? Something to remember the good times with."

"I know the feeling," I say, thinking of my shoe box at home. Suddenly I find it strange that Jack is telling me all of these deeply personal things about himself. _Why is he telling me? Does he suspect something? _Maybe I've been acting too much like Elsa around him, but I really can't help it. I'm not Clara, I never was._ Tone it down a bit though, would you?_

I stand up abruptly and take up my seat on the ground again, setting my notebook in front of me as if it were a shield between Jack and I. "So, back to the song."

"Yes," he says, suddenly business-like. He's taken over the piano bench and is now sitting cross-legged on it, holding his guitar and randomly plucking strings. "I think it's safe to say that I will not be singing, correct?"

I let out a long sigh. "Well, I guess not unless we're truly desperate, unfortunately. But if I'm singing, this will need a lot of work. I don't like being in front of crowds of people."

Jack just smiles. "We have plenty of time, so don't stress about that. We'll come to it when we come to it."

I nod. "True. Okay, now where do we go from here?"

He's silent for a moment, thinking. "I guess…" he trails off, then jumps back in. "I guess we should decide what the story we want to tell is. Most songs tell some kind of a story, don't they? We need to figure out what ours is."

"A story, huh? You got any good ones?"

"Not that I can think of off the top of my head."

"Okay, well, if that's our first step, we start there. Let's reconvene in a few hours or something, that way we'll each have plenty of time to think about this story thing and then we'll get back together and talk about that. Sound good?"

"Sure thing," Jack says as he slowly raises himself from the piano bench. "I'll see you around 3, then. Same place?"

"Sure."

"See ya soon!" he calls as he leaves the dining hall. I sit in silence until his footsteps fade away and I hear the faint squeak of the doors to the building closing, then I return to my seat on the piano bench. "What kind of story do I want to tell?" I ask myself the question out loud. I like talking to myself – literally – because it helps me think of concrete answers. If everything's always just in my head, it remains abstract, merely thought rather than action.

After only a few minutes of thinking, though, my brain is ready to burst. "I don't know any stories! I give up for now." I pull my phone from my pocket. "Oh a new message. Yay somebody likes me!" I mutter under my breath as I open it. Then I freeze. The number isn't one that I recognize, but I know who it is immediately. It couldn't possibly be anyone else, and that's what makes it so frightening.

_Unknown – Elsa Jane Winters. I found your secret, Clara._

How could he have figured that out? Unless he looked through records and other official papers that he shouldn't have access to. Well, now that I think about it, he could have hacked into some websites that had this information or something. Who knows? But now…he could tell someone and ruin everything. The life I had built up for myself for almost three years could come crumbling down in the blink of an eye. True, I eventually wanted to go back to my old life, but I like the one I have now. If anyone's going to tear down those walls, it's going to be me. And no one else.

Staring at the message, I'm surprised that I don't feel more scared. Scared isn't the right word to describe how I'm feeling right now. I'm not scared. I'm angry.

_E – Pitch. What do you want?_

It only takes a few minutes to receive a response from him, but it only makes me more upset. I can just imagine him, sitting in some dark room with his gleaming yellow eyes and greasy black hair, tormenting me, taunting me.

_P – Nothing, yet. But I'll get in touch with you again when I do._

_E – In the meantime, go to hell._


	16. When It Rains

**Don't hate me for this, guys. That's all I have to say.**

It's been probably an hour since I got Pitch's message, and I'm still angry. I just can't find a way to calm down. I've already tried playing some classical pieces as violently as possible and kicking one of the chairs in the practice room repeatedly, but my anger is deep-seated, like when mom told me about setting me up with Jack in the first place. Maybe I've been angry for a while and just needed a good catalyst to bring it to the surface again.

Now I'm just sitting in a corner of the room, leaning against the wall, scribbling on my lined paper. Not notes, and not lyrics, although they definitely could be repurposed to fit into a song, I guess. I can hear faint, insistent buzzing from where I left my phone on the piano, but I don't get up to retrieve it. If it's my mom, I can call her later. Same with Angie. Tooth knows not to contact me while I'm at camp, I said I would get a hold of her if I needed something. And if it's Jack, well, he knows where to find me. I stop writing for a moment to stare at the words that cross the page in disjointed lines and let their message sink in, then retrace them over and over again.

This is how Jack finds me.

"Hey," he says, peeking his head around the corner of the door so it's all I can see of him.

I glance up at him for a moment, then look back down and concentrate on my words. "Hey," is my only response. I'm still mad.

"I tried texting you."

"I didn't have my phone with me, sorry. What did you need?"

He walks to the piano and frowns when he sees my phone laying on it. He picks it up and begins to lightly toss it from hand to hand. "Nothing, really. I was just gonna see if you wanted to meet a little sooner than what we planned."

"Did you think of a story?"

"Maybe."

I really do look up at him this time, and hold his gaze for a few seconds. "What do you mean maybe?"

The remnants of his frown vanish from his face as he grins suddenly. "I mean, I may have thought of a possible idea for a story in a song."

"Well enough of this lollygagging then! Let's hear it!"

"I take it then that you didn't think of anything?"

"Nothing. Unless you consider building a bookshelf song-worthy material." I'm not exactly sure where that came from, but the memory is suddenly conjured of me and Anna attempting to help our father assemble a cheap bookshelf that we got from the store. He ended up giving us the most meaningless tasks to get us out of the way while he worked, like putting all the screws and nails in order of height and color. The memory makes me smile.

"That's the only story you came up with?" Jack removes his hat and sweeps a hand through his hair. My eyes follow the action and I can't help but mourn the loss of his white hair again. _He looked so good with white hair…well, he looks handsome no matter what, but he looked especially good with white hair_. _Stop it, Elsa._

"No," I say defensively. "But it's the only one that wasn't really cliché or anything."

He nods. "I think that's gonna be the hardest part. Finding something original."

"Definitely. Now, what was your possible maybe idea?" The more time I spend talking to Jack, the less angry I am. Even having not seen him for almost three years, he still has a good effect on me.

"Okay," he starts, seating himself on the piano bench again, "so I was thinking that instead of writing a song about a really specific thing, we should do it on something that everyone could relate to, you know? Avoiding clichés in the process, of course."

"Sounds good so far, you get any further?"

"Just vague ideas, really. Something that everyone struggles with, something that is a kind of universal suffering that we can speak to."

I snort at that. "You want to write a song about universal suffering? That sounds uplifting."

Jack shoots me a look of exasperation mixed with a strange slyness. "Not universal suffering, Clara," he answers in a slow voice, as if he's explaining something to a child, "something that speaks to universal suffering. Like, 'we acknowledge your struggle, keep going'. Good, right?"

"Oh." I shift my gaze back down to the notebook in front of me and stare at the words I've written. They're not mine, or at least, I didn't write them originally. I didn't string them together in their specific order, but I've repeated them to myself enough to take a small kind of ownership of them, I suppose.

"What did you write?" Jack asks, and in a flash he's towering over my hunched position in the corner.

"Nothing," I answer quickly, but he snatches the notebook from my hands. "Hey!" I shout, but he's not paying attention anymore.

After a short minute, he lowers the notebook and stares at me. "What?" I ask, again prepared to defend myself from him gaze. He looks at the words again and then back at me. "This is like what I was talking about. Badass encouragement." He starts to grin slowly. "I like it."

"Can I have my notebook back now?"

He returns it to me without saying anything and then goes back to shuffling my phone between his hands. I completely forgot that he had it, but I don't ask for it back immediately. Right now, Jack seems to be in a state of mind where he would be difficult about it, and I don't really want to work hard just to get my phone back.

"Read it out loud."

"What?"

"What you've written. Read it out loud. I want to hear it spoken."

I shrug. I have no self-consciousness because I didn't write it, so I jump right in.

Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance  
I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll,  
I am the master of my fate,  
I am the captain of my soul.

As I recite, Jack just puts his head down and slightly nods over and over. When I finish, he raises his head again and fixes me in his blue stare. "That's good. Who wrote it?"

"William Ernest Henley," I respond at once. I don't know when I started to retain information like this, but I remember names and words like an encyclopedia. "The poem's called Invictus," I say, "which is Latin for-"

"Unconquered." Jack finishes it for me.

"Yep."

"That's really great. Let's keep that around."

"I always do," I say, and it's true. My notebook is full of good things like that, words that make you feel something. I carry it with me so that I can add things to it if I find a quote or anything that speaks to me.

Jack starts to say something, but cuts his words off and looks down to the device he's holding in his hands. "Your phone's ringing," he says, tossing it across the room to me. I catch it easily and check the caller. Mom. I set it aside and look back at Jack. "I'll just call back later," I say, and he just shrugs in agreement. "Now, back to the song…"

When Jack and I finally go our separate ways for the night, I return to my original seat on the bench in the green space, where I listened to Queen this afternoon. It feels like seven years ago that I did that. Jack and I didn't get a whole lot further, but we did compile more good songs and poems and words in general that could help point us in the right direction. And when I say "compiled", I mean I thought of them and recited them for Jack so he could hear them, or he looked things up on his phone and read them out loud so I could approve of them.

I take my phone out of my pocket and check it, finally. I have a voicemail from my mom, plus two missed calls, one from her, one from dad – which doesn't normally happen – and a text message from my mom as well. I check the message first.

_M – Call me when you get this._

_How cryptic_, I think to myself. Mom's not usually one to be sneaky and withhold information, so I am truly interested now. I decide to check the voicemail next, but it just says the same thing, only now I feel an anxious twisting in my stomach. Mom's voice sounded worried and maybe a bit frantic, but that might be because I didn't answer the call in the first place. I hit the call back button and wait for her to answer. She does so on the first ring.

"Elsa! Where were you? Why didn't you answer?"

"I'm at that camp, mom, you know that," I say. "I was working with my partner on songs, and then I got this text message from some creep saying that he knew who I was, and then-"

She cuts me off. "He what?"

"He knows who I am. He knows my full name. My real name."

I expect her to be shocked, but she brushes it off. "We'll have to handle that another day. Elsa, sweetie, there's been an accident."

I can feel the blood draining from my face. "An accident? Anna?"

"No, she's fine. It's…there's no easy way to say this. It's Angie and Kevin."

_Angie and Kevin?! _ Now panic is starting to rise, I can feel it turning my former peace of mind into a whirlpool of chaos. "What happened to them?" I ask, although I'm dreading the answer.

"After dropping you off at camp, they came down to Burgess to visit for a while. On the way back to Arendelle they…"

"They what?" I almost scream into the phone.

"Their vehicle was hit by a semi-truck whose driver fell asleep and lost control."

"And?"

There's silence on the other end of the line, or there would be except for the faint sound of my mother holding back sobs. Tears automatically form in my eyes, and there's the odd sensation that my chest is caving in on itself.

"They didn't make it, Elsa."

"No…" I whisper into the phone. I can hear my mother's voice very faintly, but the pounding in my ears keeps me from making out words. I let my phone slip from my hands and land face-down in the grass, then cover my face with my hands and lose myself in the whirlpool of darkness.


	17. It Pours

**This was a really hard chapter for me. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read/follow/review my little story. I'm extremely grateful!**

I don't know how long I've been sitting on the bench when I come back to reality. I'm in the same position that I was when I dropped my phone; sitting, elbows resting on knees, face buried in hands and the tangle of my hair. I could have been here for hours for all I know. I lean to the ground and pick up my phone, which is blinking with a new message.

_M – Dad and I are in Arendelle working on funeral arrangements. We sent some of your friends to pick you up from camp. See you soon, sweetie._

The time of the message says that she only sent it a few minutes ago. _I should go pack up_, I think vaguely. I stand up and slowly make my way back to my cabin, where the other girls are definitely asleep. Packing takes the work of a moment, since I never unpacked in the first place. All of my movements are painfully slow, as if I were walking through jelly. Once I zip up my bag, I go back outside to sit on the edge of the porch and wait.

My gaze moves upward involuntarily. If I was at home, I'd be looking at the swirling ceiling patterns that I've become so used to. Out here, though, I see only a midnight blue sky and the myriad constellations that are peppered across it. _Two more stars. There are two more stars tonight._

I hear a car door slam, and a few minutes later Tooth is at my side, hugging me around the shoulders. She doesn't say anything, and neither do I, and we stay that way for a while. Then she stands up and holds out a hand to me. "We should get back," she says. "North, Bunny, and Sandy are in the car waiting." I nod and take her hand. She slings my bag over her back and we walk quickly to her vehicle. Being in her presence has somewhat lifted the sensation of moving in slow-motion.

As she puts the bag in the trunk, I settle myself into the front passenger seat, nodding a greeting at the three guys smashed together in the back seat. Even in the state I'm in, I have to stifle a smile at seeing them. The ride back is a silent but very fast affair, and I spend all of it looking at the stars from the car's window.

When we finally reach Angie and Kevin's house, I'm surprised to find that the lights are on. _Of course, my parents are there._ I give Tooth's hand a squeeze and smile at the three in the back. "Thanks for the ride…and for being good friends," I say, and I can feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes again. I don't want to cry in front of these people, for some reason. Tooth gives me a small smile and retrieves my bag for me. "Of course we'll be here if you need anything at all," she says.

"Thank you." I turn towards the house and walk up the sidewalk to the front door. _The first time I did this, I was so scared. What if they don't like me? What if I don't like them? Turns out, they loved me. And I love them._

Before I can turn the handle, though, the door swings open. Mom. It feels strange not having seen her in person in so long; she's changed. Her hair is shorter, her clothes aren't ones that I recognize, but fundamentally she's still the same person that I left three years ago. Her eyes and her smile are the same, even when touched with sadness. I drop my bag and launch myself at her open arms. "Elsa," she whispers into my hair as we hug. Then another presence joins the hug, wrapping around both myself and my mother. I look up into my dad's face and smile slightly. "Hi dad."

An hour later, when we've settled back to the living room, the joy of being reunited is starting to slip away and be replaced with grief. Mom's hand is still holding my own, and she pats it now – a reassuring gesture. She told me that they left Anna in Burgess with the Frosts. She only knew Angie and Frank from their infrequent visits, so my parents thought it would be best to come without her.

"They were some of our best friends," she says. "I can't believe…"

"I know."

"Do you know what the last thing Angie said to me was? They were just leaving our house, were halfway to their car, when she turned around and said, 'I can't tell you in words how grateful I am that Elsa came to live with us. She is the greatest blessing we've ever received.'"

More tears start to spring into my eyes. _Damn it, stop crying!_ I don't think I even cried this much when I had to leave Burgess in the first place. I didn't cry like this when I had to leave without saying goodbye to Jack and Anna and my other friends. I have never cried like this. "I miss them, mom."

"So do I, sweetie, so do I."

My dad comes back to the living room with his phone in his hand. "I was just talking to Kevin's lawyer. He said he'll be able to take care of the legal side of everything, but –" he cuts off abruptly when he sees me and mom.

I can't help but laugh. It's either that, or cry more. "We're a mess."

He nods. "I'm surprised I'm not more emotional. I don't think it's hit me quite yet, and until it does, I need to get this done."

Mom makes a sound of agreement and sits up more. "What day will the funerals be?"

"Friday."

The rest of the week goes relatively quickly, compared to that first night. I spend most of it sitting in the living room with my mom, talking about things that don't really seem to matter anymore. _It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears_. Tooth comes almost every day, just to see how I'm doing. North, Bunny, and Sandy do the same, and together they do a pretty good job of cheering me up. I genuinely laugh when they're around. It's Bunny who reminds me that I never told Jack that I was leaving. I send him a quick apology text for disappearing, but I don't explain what happened. He'll find out eventually, anyway.

I wake up Friday morning with a feeling of dread already settled in my stomach. The ceremony itself is a blur of black to me; the only part that I really remember is going up to the caskets before they closed them and saying goodbye to my second parents – not guardians, not anymore – one last time. I prepared cards to give them, to take with them into the earth, and I slide the first one into Kevin's breast pocket before bending down to kiss his cheek. The second one goes into Angie's folded hands, and I kiss her forehead. I'm not crying now, my tear ducts are dried out. I stand there are look at them, so peaceful now, but at the same time so unnaturally unexpressive. Their faces, that were always alive with emotion, are now still and cold. I can't stand it, but I can't look away. _Remember these faces. _

I stand there with the coffins until my mom touches my shoulder from behind, to direct me back to my seat. I bow my head and walk slowly to the chair that is waiting for me, with the words I left with my parents echoing in my head. They're stolen words, but I love them, and that makes them mine, too. And now Kevin and Angie's as well. "All men have stars, but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems…But all these stars are silent. You – you alone will have stars as no one else has them…In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars will be laughing when you look at the sky at night…You – only you – will have stars that can laugh! And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure…and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you…It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh."

_Only you will have stars that can laugh._

When we return to the Robinson's home that night, dad mentions that he'll have to sell the house. I whip my head back to look at him. "What?"

He looks me squarely in the eyes, something he wouldn't do when we decided that I had to leave home three years ago. "We have to sell the house, Elsa. You're not old enough to live alone."

I think I knew deep down that I wouldn't get to stay here, but the thought of leaving is unbearable to me. I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and stare at the house that's become my home. On an average Friday at this time, Angie would probably be making supper – which undoubtedly would be her homemade pizza – and Kevin would be coming home from work soon. I would be hanging out with Tooth in my room, and at six we would all be down in the dining room, eating off paper plates so Angie wouldn't have to do dishes and laughing at Kevin's ridiculous work stories, like we did every Friday.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When will I have to move out?"

Mom and dad exchange a look, and dad answers, "Soon."

"How soon? And where will I move to?"

"Elsa," my mom starts, "your father and I have already talked this through and this is what we're going to do, okay? So don't freak out."

"Okay." It's easier for me to agree at this point than argue. Let me hear what they have to say, and then I'll decide whether to freak out or not.

"This house is going to go on the market sometime next week. Some of Kevin and Angie's relatives are all coming up to clear out the house, pick up personal belongings and everything so we won't have to worry about that, but you'll have to be out of the house by then. You're going to come back to live in Burgess with us."

"But what about Clara? What am I supposed to do?"

"You will remain as Clara, for the time being."

I think about this for a moment. I know I don't really have a choice in this, just like my decision to leave Burgess in the first place, but I still have the desire to fight it. _When will I ever get to make a decision for myself? And why do bad things keep happening to the people that I love? _"What if I don't want to go back to Burgess?"

My mom gives me a quizzical look. "Why wouldn't you want to go back? It's your home."

"No," I shake my head for emphasis. "This is my home." I gesture at the house in front of me. "My friends are here. I don't know anyone in Burgess anymore. Anna doesn't know who I am. Jack doesn't know who I am. My other friends have forgotten me. I don't want to have to start over, not again."

My dad comes over to crouch in front of me. "Elsa, look at me." His voice is stern, but not harsh. I look at him, and we hold eye contact. It's a staring contest, and a battle of wills. "We're out of options. You have to come back with us, honey. You will be Clara for as long as it takes, and then be Elsa again. Be whoever you want. You'll make friends, the same ones you had before. It will work out. It always does."

I nod. My dad can't be moved when he makes a decision, and there's no point in fighting it. I won't like it, but I'll go. And maybe it will be okay.


	18. Home Sweet Home

**Hello everyone. I am so sorry that it's taken me this long to post again. This chapter took forever, but I'm somewhat pleased with it, so there's that. Please keep reviewing, I love to hear what you all have to say, and hopefully I'll post the next chapter soon. Probably much sooner, because now I can use this as a way to procrastinate reading for class, which starts tomorrow. Lemme know what y'all think!**

"The weekend went too fast," Tooth mutters from her seat next to me on the floor of my now-empty room.

"I know."

"Tell me again why you have to leave?" It's North's question, and I cringe at having to answer it. I never really explained my situation to him and the other two guys who have become my close friends. I told Tooth because I had to; I never felt it necessary to explain to the others.

"Well, it's complicated," I say, and exchange a glance with Tooth. She nods slowly. I know what she's trying to convey with the movement: _It's okay, you can tell them_, but I still have reservations about letting my secret out…again. I'm uncomfortable with the fact that I'll be almost tripling the number of people who know my true identity.

But, then again, they are the only friends I have now. And they deserve to know.

Sandy – by far the most observant of the three guys – caught my silent exchange with Tooth and now eyes me curiously. I look right at him and he just gives me an encouraging smile. I smile back.

"If I'm going to explain this to you, I'm going to have to take you back a few years."

Sandy winks at me and settles against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Bunny and North, who are both lying on the ground, raise their heads to me in interest, but don't move. "Go for it," Bunny says, "we're all ears, mate."

_Here we go_. I take a deep breath and begin. "So do you guys remember when I first got here, and one of our first conversations was about that girl from Burgess whose friends got into the ice skating accident?" I look first at North, then Bunny, then Sandy, and I can see the realization slowly start to creep into their expressions. But I press on before they get the chance to figure it out for themselves. "That was me. I'm Elsa Winters."

It dawns on me that even though I don't like telling people who I am, for obvious reasons, I do enjoy seeing the look of surprise on their faces when they find out.

Bunny blinks several times in rapid succession, and North shakes his head back and forth slowly. Sandy didn't really respond at all, he's just still giving me a little smile. Then Bunny breaks the short silence.

"You're Elsa?"

"I am."

"Prove it."

"And how exactly do you want me to do that?"

He goes silent, looks down, and then starts typing frantically into his phone. North takes this moment to pose another question: "So why did you have to come to Arendelle in the first place?"

I look down at the carpet and pick at it. "Jack's mom was so angry when he and his little sister were hospitalized. She told my parents that she was going to put a restraining order on me if I ever talked to him again. But besides that, just the way people started treating me, like they were scared of me. I couldn't live like that."

"Did she do it?"

"Do what?"

"File a restraining order?"

"No, I don't think so."

"But the threat worked."

I can't help but give a wry grin at that. "Yeah, I guess it did."

"So…wait a second." Bunny's finally come back to the conversation, and is holding his phone up to my face. On the screen is the picture of me that the Burgess Bulletin had put up when the incident was still breaking news. "You don't look anything like the picture of Elsa that we saw in the paper."

"Well, first of all, that picture is now three years old, and hopefully I've changed since then. When I moved, I changed my hair color from blonde to brown, and my eye color from blue to green. These are contacts," I say, gesturing to my eyes, "and my hair has been dyed."

"I wonder what you would look like with your natural hair and eyes back."

I laugh. "I've wondered that, too, but it's not so hard to imagine."

Bunny seems thoughtful when he responds. "No, it's not really."

As an afterthought, I add in: "And don't you dare tell anyone about this, okay?" I fix each of the guys with my stern Clara stare, part of my Ice Queen persona, if you will, and then continue. "You four are the only ones that I've told, in my three years of being Clara. And I don't want it getting out until I'm ready for it to be. That includes avoiding any questions that Jack may ask you about it. Got it?"

Once they all agree, again, to my terms and conditions, I stand up, and right at that moment, there's a knock on my door. "Elsa?" my mom asks as she peeks her head around the door frame. "We're almost ready to go sweetie, so make your goodbyes for now."

"Okay," I say, and give her a halfhearted smile. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave these people that I've gotten to know and come to love over the past three years. But it's not like I'm leaving forever. We can still visit each other.

"Well, this is it," I say, turning back towards my friends.

I give each of them a hug, Tooth longest, and we head downstairs to the front porch. My parents' car is parked in the driveway, and all of my stuff has already been loaded, so all we have to do is pile in ourselves and get on the road. I turn back to my friends again. "I'll see you guys soon, okay?"

"Okay." This time, it's Sandy who spoke, and we all turn to him in amazement. I've never heard him speak, and he looks pretty surprised himself at the sound. He just shrugs, falling back into his natural silence.

A few minutes later, sitting in the back seat of the car and heading back to Burgess, I bow my head and whisper out loud, "I'm going home." But the nervous feeling in my stomach doesn't make me feel very good about it.

* * *

When we reach my old home, I get out of the car and just stare at the house. Mom and dad are bustling around behind me, removing boxes from the trunk and from the back seat, and I should probably be helping them, but I just stand and stare. I could do this forever, but then the front door opens and an Anna I've never seen before bounces out of the house. I switch my stare from the house to my little sister. She looks exactly like I knew she would. Red hair, in two braids, like it always is, and sparkling bluish-green eyes. A smile on her face, probably permanent, and the bouncing step of a true lover of the world and all that is in it. She stops right in front of me and, without saying a word, throws her arms around me. Before I can return the hug, it's over.

"Hi, I'm Anna. You must be Clara."

"That's me," I say quietly, and I give her a timid smile. For some strange reason, I'm suddenly shy. _Why should I be shy around my own sister?_

"I hope you like living with us. I'm so glad that you're here! I've always wished I had an older sister," she starts, then frowns suddenly and corrects herself. "Well, I mean, I already have an older sister, but I haven't seen her for a long time, and…"

I put my hand up and laugh a little. "I know what you mean, I'm glad to be here too."

She smiles again, this time a sad smile. "I'm so sorry about Angie and Kevin."

I flinch at their names. "Thank you." I don't know what else to say, and apparently neither does Anna. We stand together awkwardly until my dad comes to the rescue. "Anna, Clara, would you mind helping us carry some of this up to your bedroom?"

As we move back and forth from house to car, I can't stop thinking about how strange it is to be back home, but still have no one know who I am. If my dad wasn't calling me 'Clara' every five minutes, it would almost feel like nothing had changed at all, like I had never left. _Well, that and the fact that I don't know anything about my sister anymore._

Once all of my stuff is back in my old room, Anna insists on staying to help me put things away and reorganize. "Between the two of us, we can get you all settled in in no time!" she says enthusiastically, ignoring my protests that she doesn't have to help me. My parents mysteriously disappeared when Anna first offered to help, I think they want to give us some time alone to get to know each other again.

_It's a good thing my wardrobe has changed since I left_, I think to myself as we unpack together. It would be really strange if she started to recognize some of my possessions as ones that her lost sister owned. I've put some thought into when I want to tell Anna about who I really am, and I couldn't make a decision. She'll probably be the first I tell, in the end, but when that will be, I have no idea.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by a question. "Clara? Do you want all of these to be hung up in the closet?"

"Sure, I guess. Let's just find a place for everything and then I'll switch it later if I feel like it."

"Sounds good." She gives me a quick smile and starts hanging things in the closet, and I turn back to making the bed when sudden silence from the other end of the room makes me look back. Since we started unpacking, Anna's endless chatter has become a constant, until now. My sister has disappeared into the closet.

"Anna?"

"Clara, come here!" she says excitedly.

I cross over to the closet in a few big steps and see Anna on her hands and knees, toward the back left corner, carefully pressing her hands against the floor. "What did you find?" I ask, although I think I already know the answer.

"Shhh…" she says quietly, and then places her ear to the floor as well. "I haven't been in here since Elsa left," she says in a whisper. Just then, the floorboard lifts, and Anna lets out a shriek of triumph. "Now we'll see what's in here…what's this?" she says, lifting out the pile of letters that I left there three years ago. The envelopes are just like I left them, obviously no one found the secret stash.

Before I can say anything or react in any way, Anna gives another little yell. "These are…Clara! These are letters! Letters that Elsa wrote! She must have left them here when she left…and no one ever found them. Why didn't I think of looking in here? One for Rapunzel, Merida, Flynn, Hiccup, Sophie, Jack…me."

I sneak a glance at her face; even in the darkness of the closet, with only the sunlight from the window faintly making its way in, I can see the tears forming in her eyes. It's so easy to forget that Anna was probably hurt the most from my disappearance, she hides it so well, she's always so happy. I don't know what to do, though. Should I comfort her? Should I just give her some time?

Before I can do anything, though, Anna rips open her letter. It's a long one, probably the longest of the notes I left in the secret stash, although Jack's rivals Anna's in length. Despite the pages I've written, she seems to get through it pretty quickly, but then she goes back to the beginning and rereads. While this is happening, I sift through the other letters, trying to remember what I wrote in them. I can't. I want to open them and look, but that would mean breaking the seals, and I don't want to do that.

After a solid fifteen minutes, Anna puts her letter back in the envelope and looks up at me. "Clara, I'm sorry," she says, and wipes some tears from her cheeks.

I give her a small smile. "You don't have anything to apologize for."

"It's just…when Elsa left, she never said goodbye to me. I thought she was angry with me or something, but this letter…I wish I had found it sooner." I nod, but don't say anything, and she continues. "All this time, never hearing a word from her…I don't understand how she could forget me like that. How she could leave me."

Every word she says is stabbing me with guilt. _What have I done to my little sister?_

Before I can stop myself or think about my actions, I wrap Anna up in a hug, a big bear hug like the ones our dad used to give us when he got home from work. She cries into my shoulder, and we don't move. When her sobs start getting louder, I stroke her hair with my free hand. "It's okay, it's okay," I say, over and over.

"I miss her."

"She misses you too, Anna, I'm sure she does. And I can't believe for a second that anyone who's ever met you could forget you." It feels strange to be in this situation. _Just tell her. Why won't you tell her? You see what it's done to her?_

I didn't realize she would be so hurt by this.

_Fix it. Now._

I pull slightly back from Anna and cup her tear-stained face in my hands. "Anna, leaving you was the hardest thing your sister ever had to do. And don't think for a second that she doesn't love you, because she does. She loves you and misses you more than you know."

The world freezes. Anna's eyes, which were still red from crying, slowly lose their look of grief as she stares into mine. I read once that the eyes are the gateway to the soul, but I don't think I understood what that meant until this very moment. I see a flood of emotions pass through her eyes: sadness, loneliness, anger, resentment, love, and then finally, recognition. She reaches a hand up and lightly touches my cheek.

"Elsa?"


	19. Creeping and Creepers

**Alright**. **I promise there will be more characters in the next chapter. And to all you people out there who are concerned with this story being over soon, please, do not worry. I am nowhere close to finishing. It's just taking me longer to update because between work and classes now I have less time to commit to this, but I will continue, never fear. Thank you for following/reviewing/reading my story, I'm so glad to share it with you. And keep asking fun questions, because I'm really enjoying hearing what you have to say. Also in the next chapter, expect Jack to come back into the picture, because we haven't seen him in a while, I think. We are long overdue for a Jack sighting. Until then, my friends!**

I'm sitting on my bed with Anna, for the first time in what seems like forever. We've just been hanging out in here, talking and laughing, for most of the afternoon, and my parents haven't come to check on us.

"Okay, so explain this to me again," my sister says, "why did you have to leave?"

I sigh and look up at the ceiling. I've tried explaining twice now, but she just doesn't understand. "I was afraid. I thought that I would get into even more trouble if I stuck around town, and besides, everyone was treating me different anyway."

"You could have stayed, it would have passed eventually."

"Anna, if there comes a time that you're publicly feared and slandered, then you'll understand what I was going through." I feel a little bad for getting frustrated, but Anna and I have never been able to go a full day without fighting about something.

She puts her hands up in a defensive movement. "Okay, okay, I was just asking a question."

I smile. "Sorry, touchy subject I guess."

She laughs, a really big laugh, throwing her head back and sending her braids flying. "True, and maybe we should change the subject now. What else can we talk about?"

I lean in conspiratorially, and she does the same. "I've been dying to ask," I say, "what are all of our gang members like now? Rapunzel and Hiccup and the others? What are they like?"

Anna looks thoughtful for a moment, looking down at the unopened letters that are laying on the bed between us. "Hold on a sec," she says, suddenly jumping off the bed and rushing down the hallway. She returns a minute later clutching her laptop to her chest and throws herself back on the bed beside me. "I figured it would be easier for me to show and tell at the same time," she says in response to my questioning look.

"So first things first. How much do you know about what's happened since you left?"

"Nothing at all."

Anna just stares at me. "You don't know anything about any of them?"

I roll my eyes. "I only ever talked to mom, and I don't think you and Rapunzel kept her very well informed."

"You never looked them up on Facebook or anything?"

"I don't have Facebook."

"You don't have…? Well, I guess that makes sense," she says thoughtfully. "Okay, well, I'll just start from the beginning then." She types quickly into the search bar at the top and the screen switches to what I can only assume is Rapunzel's Facebook page. "Rapunzel is super into arts and crafts, but especially painting. She and Flynn started dating over a year ago."

"Finally. I thought they'd never get together."

Anna agrees. "I know. They almost didn't, but Flynn cleaned up his act a little and her parents are okay with it now."

I nod. Flynn was always one of the most reckless of the group because he wasn't afraid to get in trouble, which was great when we needed someone to be daring, but bad because it got all of us into more trouble than necessary sometimes. I can understand why my aunt and uncle wouldn't want Rapunzel to be dating a guy like him. At the same time, though, Flynn is a fantastic person – funny and genuine and confident – and I've always wanted him and Rapunzel to be together, even before they liked each other.

We spend a little bit of time flicking through her pictures while Anna makes short comments about what was happening in each. Most of them are snapshots of Rapunzel and Flynn being annoyingly adorable. I can't help but smile every time I see them together. I'd better get this under control before I see them again in person, or they'll think I'm the biggest creep to walk the planet. Which is probably true, considering that Anna and I are Facebook stalking them right now.

"Okay, who's next?" I ask after a few minutes of this. I'm anxious to know about everyone.

"Merida," Anna answers briskly, clicking on one of the names tagged in Rapunzel's pictures. The screen changes abruptly and I see a picture of Merida as I remember her, from three years ago. "She hasn't changed a bit," I say out loud, and Anna laughs.

"You don't know the half of it," she says, still giggling.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you remember when she got really into archery, and we all just kinda thought that it was a phase she was going through and that she would grow out of it?"

"Yeah. Lemme guess, she didn't, and she's still really into it."

"Yep. But she's not just into it. She's _really_ good at it. Like, really good."

I think about it for a minute. Merida always was the outdoorsy type, so it doesn't surprise me much that she stuck to that as she got older. "Do you still see much of her?" I ask.

Anna nods quickly. "Oh yeah. Rapunzel and her are inseparable most of the time, which is funny because they're opposites, but I'm glad about it." She starts clicking through some of Merida's photos and then stops and hits me lightly on the shoulder. "Watch this," she commands excitedly and clicks another button. "Now you'll see how good Merida can shoot."

We settle into silence and watch. The video itself isn't a very good quality, obviously taken on someone's cell phone, but it doesn't take away from Merida's bowmanship. My redheaded friend stands on a field, yelling something that I can't quite make out, then takes an arrow from the quiver on her back and sends it straight into the bulls-eye at the other end of the field. Then she walks down the line, never stopping, and continues to shoot arrows at the other targets, nailing each one in its dead center. The crowd in the background, which was initially very noisy, quiets as she reaches her last target. I can hear someone whisper – probably the owner of the phone this was taken on – that there's already an arrow in the last one. Merida stands still for a few seconds, and then releases her arrow. The crowd's on its feet before it even hits the target, and the video gets really jumbled at the end, so I can't really see what's happened, but Anna fills me in. "She hit the bulls-eye. The arrow went straight through the other one, straight through the target itself actually. I have no idea how she had the strength to shoot it like that. She told me she doesn't really know either. But it was amazing, Elsa."

"Man…" I whisper quietly. I've never really cared about archery until this moment, but now I wish I could learn. Maybe Merida would teach me if I asked.

"Now," Anna says, returning to her brisk manner, "back to business. We'll look at Hiccup next." The screen switches again, now showing me the picture of a tall, almost gangly looking boy with wispy hair. It's just what I would expect Hiccup to look like. "So what's he all about these days?"

"Guess."

"Inventing things? He was always pretty tech-savvy."

"Bingo!" Anna beams at me, and I remember again just how much I missed her. "He's really good at what he does too. All of our friends are extremely talented people," she says. "He doesn't always act the coolest – he stutters a lot in front of this one girl, Astrid – but he's still the same Hiccup. Oh and he has a cat that he calls Toothless. It's the naughtiest and cutest cat ever, and its super protective of Hiccup."

I make a note to look more into their profiles later. Anna seems to be giving me on the basic information. "Okay, who's next?" I ask.

She thinks for a moment. "Well, there's Sophie, but she's not up to much except hanging out with me. She's my best friend, like she was then, and we do almost everything together. And you know about Jack already."

I know about Jack? I don't know a thing about him except what other people have told me, and even those people didn't know him very well. Second hand information is all I have. And I tell Anna so.

"Well, in that case, let's take a look at him then." She switches to his page. "Jack's probably the one that changed the most out of all of us," she starts, but I silence her with my hand. I stare at the picture in front of me, that shows Jack as he looks today. Dark hair instead of white, a sly smirk on his face where there used to be a mischievous grin. Anna watches me stare at him for a little while, then scrolls through his pictures as well.

"Jack's stopped hanging out with us as much as he used to. He has some other friends now, ones that Rapunzel doesn't really like, but I don't mind them much. They're all troublemakers though, and I know his mom is worried. He still acts the same most of the time, but sometimes he gets into weird moods where he won't talk to us. I think being bothered by those stupid guys was harder on him than any of us thought."

"Well obviously. Look how much he's changed. He dyed his hair because of them."

"True. It doesn't look too bad though. Girls seem to like it."

I give her a sharp look. For some reason, girls liking Jack never occurred to me before. It's a little strange of me to feel possessive of someone that doesn't know who I am, but I realize that I am feeling possessive of Jack. He's mine. My best friend. My first crush. I think I still have a crush on him. I think I always have.

"Elsa?" Anna's timid question jerks me out of these thoughts.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you like Jack?"

I laugh a little. _My little sister can read minds_. "Of course I like him. He was my best friend."

"No, I mean, do you _like him_ like him?"

_She's perceptive, too. Maybe Anna should be a police detective._ "I've liked him liked him for years, now."

She smiles. "I knew it."

I return the smile, but now I feel a bit sad. "Well, it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even know who I am."

"Are you gonna tell him?"

I sigh. "I don't know. Do you think I should? Do you think he would be angry with me for not telling him before?"

Anna's quiet for a while. Then she reaches over and touches my brown hair softly. "I think," she says slowly, "that maybe you should feel it out before you do anything. I can see it going either way. I think he would be thrilled to see you again, but I think he would be angry, too. When you left, he was upset. Really upset. He would come over every day to ask about you. He and Hiccup tried for a long time to find you. He told me once that he was angry at you for leaving and not telling him, but I didn't know what to say. He might be okay with it now, though. Who knows?"

Her little speech leaves me with more things to consider. "I've been trying to figure out what he thinks about me for a while now, ever since I found out we were partners in that Music Exchange thing. But I'm not getting a whole lot out of him."

"Wait. _You're _Jack's partner?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you'd know. Mom's in charge of that assignment stuff, isn't she? I thought she would have told you that."

"She didn't." Anna's face has gone white, and I'm starting to feel nervous.

"What is it, Anna? You're scaring me!"

"You'd better decide right here and now if you want Jack to know or if you want him to find out later. Jack told Flynn a couple days ago – and he obviously told Rapunzel, who told me – that he thought his Music Exchange partner might know where Elsa is."

"What?! Where did he get that idea?!"

"Some guy from Burgess got in touch with him."

"Some guy? What guy?" _If Bunny or North or Sandy ratted on me, I will personally kill them. And I will enjoy it._

"It was a weird name, gosh…"

"Think, Anna. What was the name?" _I will track them down and hurt them._

"Pitch. His name was Pitch."

I can feel my body deflating, like an old birthday balloon that's been tossed around too much. "Pitch," I repeat, and she nods. "I should have known."


End file.
